#I wanted to actually clean it properly but I ended up working way more than expected so I wasn’t able to finish

[victory-cookies]

it’s that time of year again (I have tidied my room so that, from the door, it looks really clean, but then standing anywhere else in the room you can see the stack of bags full of stuff I didn’t have time to sort through and put away)

#I can get it looking almost perfect! assuming you don’t actually come in #but that’s fine bc when we have people over all they’re seeing is the view from the door anyway #and from there the bag pile is blocked by a Christmas tree a space heater and a mirror all arranged so they just block it from view #I wanted to actually clean it properly but I ended up working way more than expected so I wasn’t able to finish #which I feel like happens every year #bc I get depressed and don’t clean my room for four months but then have to clean it for guests at Christmas #so then have to get it looking as tidy as I can with limited time and energy to actually clean #so I just put all my shit in bags and push it into a corner or my closet so at least it’s out of view until I actually can deal with it

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop

Summary: Tav overhears Astarion complaining about their situation and decides to do what she can to make it a little better for him and she ends up surprising him in the process.

Tav isn't referred to by name. There might be a part 2 if this is well-received.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 1.8k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It started when she overheard a passing comment from behind her, grumbled in response to something Lae’zel said.

From the earliest parts of the day, they’d been making their way through difficult terrain; surrounded by thousands of bugs and mud up to their ankles. She’d tried not to complain about it though Astarion never shared her focus on quiet suffering and he had a fair point.

Though they’d managed to set up a fairly comfortable camp outside the grove – not wanting to impose nor deal with the druids for too long – they hadn’t really found any chance to properly bathe since their abduction.

The late afternoon glinted into her eyes as an idea presented itself.

She slipped away from the group almost excitedly to find the abandoned house where she’d spied it not long ago. After making sure it contained no nasty surprises, she’d left. It didn’t really have a roof and the majority of it had been burned down by some form of magical fire but most importantly, it had a tub.

One night together shouldn’t have made her so weak for the elf but despite all his sweetened words and falsities, he captivated her attention. She knew he meant little by it but sometimes those words made her days brighter regardless.

And she wanted to return the favour given how the muddy path came from her badly thought-out route.

The river running close by provided her with clean and cool water, not the easiest to move in large amounts but still able to fill the tub. It didn’t leak (a minor miracle) and she managed to use a little more of her already-exhausted magic to get a few charms warming the water up.

She smiled at her work proudly and left the charms to do her work while she made her way back to the grove to get some soaps.

Her shoulders shook a little as she eyed her small surprise. Proud and excited, she now faced the greatest of tasks.

Encouraging Astarion to actually step away from camp.

“No, thank you,” he said, dismissed her with the casual wave of a hand. “I’ve had quite enough traipsing through the forest for one day. If you want to continue finding every possible swamp insect to attack you, you’re welcome to be my guest.”

She sighed. “But I have something to show you. It’s a surprise.”

He smiled, strained. “My, aren’t you a desperate little thing. Maybe I’ll join you a little later in the night but for now, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the interest.”

“No, it’s not…” she groaned. “It’s just a bath, alright? I overheard you complaining about being dirty earlier so I found one for you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. Come along. Those runes aren’t going to last forever and I know you’re going to fuss about the water temperature.”

Astarion chuckled and she immediately knew he didn’t believe her. “I appreciate the creativity, darling. Really, I do, but you’ll find direct offers are far more effective on me.” He leaned closer and she became suddenly aware of how many eyes watched them from around the camp. “But if you’re really going to such lengths, I’m not going to deny you forever.”

Flushed, she stepped away and ducked her head. “Fine. I’ll use it myself but you better not complain once more about it.”

She ignored the slightly concerned expressions of her friends as she stormed back into the tree line by herself. Why she even thought he’d appreciate it… she shouldn’t have even bothered offering it to him. She really needed to be more selfish if she wanted to not get turned down by the vampire spawn again.

It stung more than she expected it to, even if she wasn’t offering anything more than an actual bath.

She brushed her fingers over the surface of the still-warm water when she got there and sighed. It still felt like a waste, even if she used it. Amazing how homesick she’d grown for her house when stuck out in the wild with nothing more of comfort than a single bedroll.

Maybe she should have stolen one of those beds from the goblin den they cleared.

The floor creaked and her hand flew to her weapon, spun around only to find a very arrogant elf who appeared annoyingly surprised.

“My, so it wasn’t even a ploy alone,” he said. “You genuinely managed to find a bath. I respect your dedication if nothing else. There are certainly easier ways of seeing me undressed.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the water. “I was trying to do something nice for you but as you’re not interested, feel free to return back to camp.”

He stepped close enough to brush his fingers against her cheek. “Whoever said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did. In very direct words.”

“Well, things change. I’ve decided you’re quite right. It’s been far too long since I got to wash and you’ve been so sweet, setting it all up for me. I couldn’t be rude and turn you down right now, could I?”

Cursing the elf beneath her breath for his indecisiveness, she moved to walk past him. “Enjoy.”

Once again, she surprised him and Astarion took a second to respond, calling to her as she reached the edge of the charred flooring.

“You’re not joining me?”

She looked back at him. “Am I meant to be?”

“Why, yes. I can hardly be expected to do things like washing my hair all by myself. What if I get lonely or attacked?”

She frowned at him but he kept smiling at her in the same insistent way he did when he wanted something. The corner of his lips pulled up as though he knew a joke and didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t help herself but relent under his burning gaze; he’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to let him drink blood from her throat. Perhaps she should be concerned with where her willpower went when it came to this man.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll help with your hair if you really need.”

“How fun.”

He insisted on being as distracting as possible when he got undressed. His constant glances at her met nothing in return but she couldn’t help glancing at the scars as he lowered himself into the tub.

Their ridges made her uncomfortable. Not knowing what it said frightened her for Astarion’s safety rather than her own.

Nothing good ever came from runes carved into flesh.

“There’s no need to act so shy, beautiful. You’ve seen me in far more compromising situations than this.”

She wouldn’t call their night together compromising but she ignored the comment regardless. His soft sigh of relaxation as he settled into the water worked wonders for clearing up her irritation.

How he managed to be so magnetic astounded her. She found a spot to sit behind him and slowly, gingerly, began to help him with his hair. Despite being ridiculously soft considering how long they adventured in the wilderness, it needed some careful care and attention.

She took care to stay gentle when she found where tangles turned into knots and worked them free without pulling. He gave a small hum when she had to give a soft tug and she took it as an okay to use a little more force.

“We don’t have much to work with but I did manage to get some things from the grove,” she said. “It won’t be up to your standards but I don’t think anything really is.”

Cagey about his past, all she knew surrounded the small snippets he gave her when upset or ranting. She doubted he’d ever had much time to fuss over which hair products he used, too busy watching over his shoulder for a constant threat. He still did so now when he thought nobody could see. His meditation never held him deeply as sleep took her.

“Regardless of whether or not it’s professional, I won’t complain about your skills with this.”

“Skills at detangling your hair?”

“At winning my favour.”

She frowned a little and focused on the white locks where they curled between her fingers. “I’m not only doing this because I want to impress you.”

“I’m sure you have other motivations,” he hummed, teasing. “But you know you’re more than welcome to join me whenever you’re ready. You chose a good-sized tub for both of us.”

She ignored him again, instead focusing on working out a tight knot. Once done, she encouraged him to lean back a little so she could massage the soap gently into his hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp until his eyes fluttered closed and the smallest hint of relaxation showed in his expression.

Good. He carried far too much tension and she stopped herself from continuing the slight massage down to where she could see the stress in his neck and shoulders. How uncomfortable it must be but she didn’t want to encourage whatever strange idea he had about this situation.

Still, even if she hadn’t planned anything, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

She wanted to press her lips to the pale skin of his neck and trace the path of the water droplets as they pooled against his collar bone. She wanted to trail her hands over his sides and pull him close.

She coughed to stop her thoughts before they ran too far.

If the parasite in her skull didn’t kill her soon, she may just die from the way this elf made her heart pulse unnaturally fast.

“Everything alright?”

He sounded… well, still as flirtatious as ever but more concerned than she thought he would. She snapped her attention back to him and almost lost herself in those stunning eyes.

If she wanted to, she could so easily fall prey to his sweetened words and he really wouldn’t mind. He would encourage it even.

She finished washing the last of the soap from his hair and stood up somewhat uneasily. Pride still shone in her chest as he sat up properly, appearing far cuter than she anticipated with his hair falling flat against his skin.

She saw the invite on his lips before he even said it. Watched him flick whatever switch he had to draw her in and she hurried to leave.

“I’ll see you back in camp, alright?”

His confused expression followed her as she stepped away from the building but he didn’t call her back. She found her way back to camp with a slight heave to her chest and a desperate need for a distraction.

Though she really should have thought it through before she asked Lae-zel to spar with her. The bruise kept her up for the entire night – long enough to realise he didn’t come past for a taste of her blood in the evening.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

[touyasdoll]

Humanity

pairing: Touya Todoroki/Dabi x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: reverse comfort, implied unproteted sex but no smut, touya has feelings™, he's a little mean for a second but its resolved

notes: he just needs a hug okay?? I would coddle this man until the ends of days 🖤

“I fucking hate you,” Touya grinds our through his bared teeth.

“Keep telling yourself that, but I know the truth, handsome,” you reply easily.

He bristles at the word ‘handsome’. No one has ever called him that until you came along. Not since his mother spoke that word to him as a little boy and he still doesn’t understand why you use such a word to describe him.

“You love me, Touya. I know you don’t love yourself. You don’t even know the meaning of the word, but I could change that, if you’d let me,” you say more softly.

His shoulders sag at that. He lets down the tall, imposing walls that he’d spend so many years constructing for just a moment, but he props them right back up again.

“Fuck you,” he spits. “I don’t need this. You were an easy lay and that all.”

He turns on his heel, intending to leave your apartment, but it’s hard. Harder than he thought, especially when you’re baring your soul to him.

Why tonight? Of all nights, why now? He can’t take this.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” you say as you slip out of bed, heading towards the bathroom to clean yourself of the evidence of what you both just did together. To rid the proof of his seed between your thighs.

“It’s the truth,” he insists as he makes for the bedroom door, but he finds it difficult to actually turn the handle.

He watches you slip into the bathroom, appalled when he discovers that he can’t seem to drag himself out and finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed instead.

You return a few moments later, not much surprised to find him still sitting there. He does crave the love that you have to offer him and he knows it deep down, as much as he loves to vehemently deny himself of that pleasure.

"You're still here," you point out, your voice soft, a gentle whisper carrying through the chill in the room.

"I can't fucking leave," he whispers and even in the dim light of your bedroom, only the midnight moon offering light to the space, you still spot the bead of crimson rolling over his cheeks as he keeps his gaze fixed on the floor.

He never lets you keep the lights on when you do what you do. He says he just prefers it that way, but you know it's because he's too embarassed to let you see him properly with all his scars and marred skin on full display, even though you've told him countless times that you still think he's beautiful that way.

"You don't have to," you insist gently as you pad closer to him, approaching him as one would a cornered animals, because that's what he is in this moment. "I'd rather you stay anyway, Touya."

"Stop calling me that," he hisses, his voice growing more quiet. "I never should've shared that name with you."

His name. The one he'd uttered to you after mere weeks of coming to meet you in your bedroom late at night, when the city was quiet, but his mind was busy, too full of the events of the day and the wight of his goals weighing on his crumbling shoulders. He hadn't regretted it then and if he's being honest with himself, he didn't now. Not really, anyway.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, taking a seat beside him to rest your hand on his knee.

It's the truth and you both know it. He looks down at your hand and it only makes it that much harder to reject you. Why can't he shake you? Why can't he walk away and stay away?

"I don't," he admits, clenching his teeth as he feels an unfamiliar pressure just beneath the seams of the staples lining his under eyes. "And I—," he cuts himself off.

He wants to insist that he hates it, but that isn't the truth either. He doesn't hate anything about you or this or the things that you make him feel, except the fact that he knows he's going to fuck it up. he knows it won't work. You will disappear like everything else he has ever actually wanted in life and he is powerless to stop it.

"You what, baby?" You ask as you work a hand into his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp beneath his mussed midnight tresses.

"I'm no good at this, doll," he says almost inaudibly, his tone laced with pain and tight as the scars beneath his eyes. "I've never done this, but I know that I can't. Not with you. Not to you."

They begin to leak, seeping crimson tears over his cheeks that threaten to snap your heart in two when you spot them.

"You can't know that if you've never tried, Touya," you insist gently as you rest your head on his shoulder. "And this doesn't have to be anything if you don't want it to be."

"But you want it to be," he points out, his arm slipping around you to hold you close to him as his hand glides up and down your arm. "I.. I do too, but I'm.."

"Afraid," you finish, tilting your head back to look up at him. "I am too. That's okay. It's scary and that's not a bad thing. It doesn't make you weak or inferior. It makes you human."

Human. Something he hasn't felt for a long time. That's what it is about you. You make him feel human. You make him feel iike someone worth loving, worthy of being able to try to love another.

"That's terrifying. I hate it," he says, staring blankly at the floor of your bedroom.

"Makes sense coming from someone who doesn't seem to fear anyone else. Wecome to your humanity," you say softly as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

You wrap both arms around him, holding him dearly as he does the same to you. He turns his head towards you, nuzzling against your scalp before he presses a kiss to it and closes his eyes.

"I think I do love you, doll."

The words are timid, but they're honest. The most honesty he's offered you or himself since you two had met, but they feel right. A small smile turns up the corners of your lips as you hold him a little tighter.

"I love you too, Touya."

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x you #touya x y/n

[raythekiller]

omggg the masky nsfw alphabet was 😍

how abt eyeless jack nsfw alphabet? maybe? :)

🦇 anon

🗒 ❛ NSFW Alphabet ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Eyeless Jack

#Notes: THERE'S LIKE 4 OTHER PEOPLE ASKING FOR HIS NSFW ALPHABET IN MY INBOX, FINA YALL WILL WRITE IT 😭

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

A - AFTERCARE 

Will absolutely not let go of you. The whole act is so personal and intimate and important to him he can't help but want to hold you close.

B - BODY PART 

Pretty nonsexual, but your face. He just thinks you look so pretty, even if he can't see properly.

C - CUM 

Major breeding kink, will cum inside of you multiple times in a row until you're filled to the brim.

D - DIRTY SECRET 

He's never had actual sex before, most far he's ever gotten was a blowjob or two.

E - EXPERIENCE 

As mentioned above, not too experienced, but he makes up for it with his eagerness and will to satisfy you.

F - FAVORITE POSITION 

Mating press. He's able to thrust deeper, hold you close and stare at your face all at the same time.

G - GOOFY 

He gets into an animalistic state and is unable to speak, so humor isn't really that present.

H - HAIR 

Clean shaven, makes him feel more hygienic. It's darker than his hair.

I - INTIMACY

Again, unable to speak, but the way he's clinging to you like his life depends on it says it all.

J - JACK OFF

Barely does it at all, unless he's got someone on his mind, then he'll do it a couple times every week.

K - KINK

Here's a full post on his kinks.

L - LOCATION 

Definitely the bedroom, yours or his. Makes it more private and personal.

M - MOTIVATION 

Hates to admit it, but your scent drives him crazy. Even better if you're horny, since he can smell your arousal in the air. It's intoxicating.

N - NO

Either of you being tied up is a hard no. He doesn't like it on himself for obvious reasons (cult sacrifice) and doesn't like it on you cause he's afraid he might lose control and needs you to be able to get away from him if he does.

O - ORAL 

Definitely giving. Those tongues of his work miracles.

P - PACE

Starts off slow and sensual, becomes brutal and animalistic after a while.

Q - QUICKIE

Prefers taking his time with you, so quickies aren't really a thing you do often.

R - RISK 

Pretty vanilla when it comes to this. Doesn't like experimenting or doing anything risky, but might budge if you ask nicely.

S - STAMINA

Just doesn't get tired. Only stops when you beg him to, otherwise he's gonna be breeding you for days.

T - TOYS 

Doesn't own or like to use any. Just doesn't see the point in it.

U - UNFAIR

Ends up accidently teasing you with how much foreplay he does, but it's completely unintentional.

V - VOLUME

Barely moans, only growls and groans. His noises are deep and raspy, unlike his normally calm and gentle speaking voice.

W - WILD CARD 

Sometimes when you're away, he sneaks into your room and jerks himself off on your bed, inhaling your scent off the sheets and pillowcase.

X - X-RAY 

This motherfucker is big, almost 11 inches, although not too thick.

Y - YEARNING

His sex drive isn't normally high, but he has some "heat periods" to deal with where he gets extremely needy.

Z - ZZZ 

Waits for you to fall asleep first, just relishing in the fact that you trust and feel comfortable around him enough to be at your most vulnerable. Will drift off after with a smile on his face.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ray.writes #eyeless jack #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack x reader #🦇 anon

[dlscenarios]

Kiss It Better: Extended Version

Chapter II.

ICYMI -> Chapter I

The angst begins! This fic is basically just an oreo, but instead of creme, it’s depression. Once again, this IS cross-posted on Wattpad and Ao3. Feeback is appreciated.

Next Chapter

It was easy to befriend Manjiro. He was like a ray of sunshine, always beaming and brightening up any room he was in. As the years ran on, he met new friends and the second that he got attached to them, he introduced them to you with an excited grin. After looking up to his brother for so long, Mikey created his own biker gang with the help of these new buddies: the Tokyo Manji Gang. As the established leader, Manjiro tried his best to mirror his older sibling. Shinichiro's gang was successful, so Mikey strived to do the same with Toman. Over time, you had grown accustomed to being surrounded by delinquent kids, despite the lingering fear of your friends biting off more than they could chew in fights. Regardless, you masked your apprehension and supported Mikey's new path in life. You'd struck a deal with him; he would give you free rides on his bike in exchange for first aid after you committed yourself to learning it. You had taught yourself how to properly care for all sorts of injuries, wanting to be prepared for when the boys got into fights or accidents. While they reaped the tangible benefits, your new skill was mostly for your own sake. This way, you wouldn't have to worry about the boys as much.

You were the person Mikey ran to after a fight. Several nights had begun with him knocking on your door, bloody and bruised. You'd guide him into the bathroom before cleaning and bandaging his cuts while Manjiro raved about how he'd gotten them. It always ended with him winning the fight, no matter the opponent nor how his injuries questioned his victory. You never doubted him though. He had grown up in his grandfather's dojo, after all. Surely Mikey could take out several men twice his size. He was invincible. No matter how bad of a shape he was in, you'd bet that his opponents received way worse.

Manjiro refused to let you witness a fight with your own eyes, yet he and his friends constantly bragged about their escapades. They all seemed like strong, capable fighters, so you believed them.

As Mikey's thirteenth birthday approached, Toman's officers agreed on the perfect gift for their leader: a new motorcycle. A feared delinquent shouldn't have a bike that can only go at a snail's pace and breaks down every five minutes. Shinichiro had actually found salvageable parts during a recent trip and planned to use them to modify Mikey's dream bike as a birthday gift. He only told you about the project, trusting you to help hide the surprise from his younger brother. 

You assisted the older Sano whenever you could, mostly by handing him the tools he asked for from his workbench. You'd sit in his shop and watch as Shinichiro worked on the bike day and night, wanting it to be perfect for his protégé. While he had worked on countless bikes before, this was the most special one he had the pleasure of building. You swore he even had tears in his eyes when he heard the engine purr for the first time.

Mikey's party was scheduled for the 15th, five days before his actual birthday. The night before, Shinichiro stayed in his shop after closing, adding the finishing touches to the party plans. He wouldn't live long enough to see the joy on his brother's face as he unveiled his gift.

The next morning, your parents sat you down and carefully explained what had happened on the night of the 14th. Shinichiro had been found dead in his shop. The culprits? They were none other than Kazutora and Baji, two of Toman's founders and some of Mikey's closest friends. The boys swore that it was an accident — that they didn't know it was his shop until it was too late — but no amount of apologizing would bring back Shinichiro. He was gone, killed by two kids that only wanted the best for his baby brother. While both boys had been arrested, Kazutora took the blame so that Baji would be let go. Both plead guilty, but only Kazutora would be sentenced.

You spent the entire day with Mikey and his family. That night, Emma clung to you as she sobbed into your shoulder. How she hadn't cried herself into a dry husk was a miracle. You gently rubbed the small girl's back, yet your eyes were glued on Manjiro. He limply fiddled with the new action figure his grandfather had bought for his birthday. Blonde bangs fell in front of the eyes that had always seemed so bright despite their dark color. Now, they were lifeless. The energetic little boy you knew was no more. His innocence died on his birthday, the day his role model — his own brother — was stolen from him.

You had never seen Manjiro cry in the years you had known him. He was too proud to let anyone see him in such a vulnerable state; yet, after his sister had finally gone to bed that night, he couldn't take it anymore. You were preparing to leave, but Mikey grabbed your wrist. He refused to look at you, facing the ground as his hair covered his eyes in shame.

"Mikey?" You called. His shoulders were stiff as he inhaled sharply and bit his quivering lip. He didn't say anything, but you could make out the glint of a tear falling to the floor. You stepped closer and threw your arm around him. Manjiro immediately returned your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. One of your hands rested on the back of his head, fingers lacing into his blonde hair as he choked out quiet tears.

Small sniffles and the wails he refused to stop holding back echoed throughout the room. His hands were trembling as he tightened his grip on the back of your shirt, almost like he was scared that you would leave him too. You were the only one he could turn to. Your touch was the softest he'd ever felt. He couldn't let you leave. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

His cracking voice came out muffled. "Don't go."

After a quick call to your parents, you agreed to stay the night. Mikey offered you his bed while he spread out a blanket for himself on the wooden floor. You sat at the edge of his bed, watching as the exhausted boy fluffed a pillow.

Sighing, you nudged his thigh with your foot. "Mikey."

"Hm?" He looked up from his crouched position. His nose and eyes were still red from his prior outburst.

You nodded to the head of his bed, "Get up here."

The two of you laid beside each other, recalling lighthearted memories in an attempt to lift the mood before falling asleep. While there was a noticeable gap between your bodies, your hand ended up in Manjiro's sometime during the night. His fingers intertwined with yours as he held your hand close to his chest, knuckles brushing against him.

From that day on, he put up a front that he was a strong leader, no longer believing that he was capable of being such. That was what Shinichiro had been and who Toman needed. The night after his brother's death was the first time Mikey had the courage to give in and be vulnerable.

You were the first person to see that. You were the first person to hold him tight and say that everything would be okay. You were the first person to witness the real Manjiro Sano.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokrev #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #sano mikey manjiro #tokrev mikey #mikey sano #mikey x reader #tokrev manjiro #manjiro x y/n #manjirou x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro x you

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 3: First Family Dinner

Sarah comes to visit and has questions for Joel. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut :D Yeah, they're horny, OK? Just expect a lot of smut in this fic. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.1k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel actually felt pretty damn smart when he got to his house. He stopped at the trash bin that sat outside the garage and dropped his now empty coffee cup into it, just in case Sarah asked why he’d gone to the place with the name stamped on the side of the cup. 

He didn’t have a good fucking reason to be at a coffee shop by your apartment besides being at your apartment. And he knew he wasn’t ready to tell his daughter about the fact that you two were… whatever the fuck you were. 

What were you doing with him? What did you want with him? Why was it so hard to know and why was he so fucking afraid to ask? 

Didn’t matter now. The morning Sarah showed up to surprise him with a visit was not the morning to be having this discussion. 

“Baby Girl?” Joel called as he closed the door behind him, dropping his keys on the table in his entry way. 

“Dad!” Sarah flew around the corner and launched herself at him, just like she’d done when she was a kid. He caught her, the air knocked out of him, laughing as he caught his breath. “I missed you, old man!” 

“Missed you too, Baby Girl,” he said, setting her down and stretching out his back. “But you’re gonna have to cut me a break, think my back is gettin’ too old to be catchin’ you like that.” 

“How am I supposed to properly shower you in affection if I can’t just throw my whole body at you?” She smirked. “But fine, I guess if it’s for the sake of your health…” 

He rolled his eyes and tugged her against his side, kissing her temple. 

“Just gotta have you move back closer to home,” he gave her a squeeze. “Wouldn’t need to tackle me if I just saw you more.” 

“Yeah, I’m working on that,” she smiled. “Trying to get promoted from junior copywriter to intermediate so I can come to the Austin office sooner rather than later…” 

“That’s amazing Baby Girl!” Joel gave her another squeeze before leading her to the living room and settling on the couch. “I’m sure you’re close, they know how good you are.”

“Speaking of my grand plan,” she said. “I see you’ve been hanging out with my work wife.” 

Joel coughed to try to hide his surprise. 

“What?” He asked after a moment. 

“Well I know you didn’t do the Seattle Zombie 5K last Halloween,” she nodded at his shirt. Joel felt his stomach drop. “But I know we did.” 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

“Not doing a walk of shame are you?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. 

“You ever known me to be the walk of shame type?” He asked, scrambling for a reason that he’d have your shirt. “I just fixed her garbage disposal for her a few weeks ago, got soaked. She was nice enough to give me a clean shirt so I wasn’t drippin’ wet on the drive home. Didn’t realize it’d made it into my dresser is all. I’ll have to wash it again, give it back…” 

“But you are hanging out with her then?” She asked. “I mean, you said give it back like you were going to see her again so…”

“We went out once since I helped with the sink and shit,” he said, telling himself that it wasn’t a lie, not really. You’d only successfully made it out of the house together once. Sarah scrunched her nose. “What, Baby Girl?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I was just hoping you guys would be friends is all. You’re both kind of alone down here, you know? I worry. I don’t want you doing nothing but sitting in the house doing… whatever weird old man stuff you do.” 

“I don’t do weird old man stuff…” 

“And leave her alone too long and the next thing you know she’s on the dating apps and she ends up going out with some total idiots,” she said, ignoring Joel’s protest entirely. “Really, Dad, her taste in men is shit and I’m not here to keep her busy, I was kind of counting on you here.” 

Joel frowned. 

“Not on you to protect her,” he said. Though, from what little he knew, Sarah was right. Your taste in men was shit. “And I’m sure she’s got better things to do than hang out with someone who does ‘old man things…’” 

That was something that Joel had been thinking about a lot over the past two weeks. Yes, you seemed to be about as insatiable for him as he was for you and he didn’t have any damn clue as to why. But he could think of plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t be. How long was it going to be before you realized that he didn’t offer you much? He couldn’t take you to fancy restaurants every week or on nice trips. He wasn’t interested in another child and you were still young enough that you might want to be a mother. His body was often sore and worn after decades of damn near breaking himself to make a living. How much longer would you be wanting to pull him into restaurant bathrooms and make yourself come on his leg because you just couldn’t bear to wait anymore? How much longer could he text you to bitch about work while on a break at a job site and have you respond with a gif from Sharknado because you knew it would make him laugh? How much longer could he look at the selfies you sent him and think to himself “that’s my girl,” even though you weren’t even his girl now let alone in the future?

He was already in too deep with you, way too damn deep. Someone was going to have to pry you out of him, you’d already settled inside his skin and he liked it that way. Liked thinking of you first thing in the morning and just before he fell asleep, liked that you were the first thing on his mind when he got lunch at a food truck and he stumbled on something really good, liked that you showed up with his favorite beer and some obscure snack food when you came over to his place because you said you saw it and thought of him.

“Her taste in men isn’t dangerously bad,” Sarah waved him off. “Just… she tends to go for guys who definitely don’t deserve her, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Joel sighed. “I know.” 

Fuck, did he know.

“Anyway,” she said with a dramatic eye roll that reminded him of when she was a teenager. He smiled a little. “I’m in town until Wednesday! I know you’ll have to work…” 

“I can take a few days off,” he said quickly. “Get Uncle Tommy to make sure shit doesn’t go sideways…” 

“Awesome!” She perked up at that. “Because I think there are at least two Curtis and Vipers I haven’t gotten around to seeing yet and I’m going to require a handcrafted Dad burger - preferably grilled - while I’m in town. My apartment doesn’t let me have a grill on my balcony, it’s so dumb.” 

“Probably a fire code thing, Baby Girl,” he smiled. “But I think we can swing some movies and a cookout while you’re here. Tommy’d love to see ya, Maria too.” 

“Can we start by jumping in the pool?” She asked. “Because I haven’t gotten to swim in months.” 

“Might be a bit cold…” 

“Please,” she scoffed. “This is mid-summer weather in Seattle, plenty warm enough for a swim.” 

Joel smiled. 

“Whatever you want, Baby Girl.” 

The water was definitely colder than Joel would normally jump into but, for Sarah, he’d do just about anything. 

He was still getting used to drinking with his daughter, the two of them floating around the water with beers most of the day. Joel got out for a bit to make sandwiches - he put potato chips on Sarah’s just like he had when she was a kid - and he just listened to what she’d been up to, hanging on her every word. 

Joel had always felt incredibly lucky to have Sarah as his daughter. There were the obvious reasons, of course. She was kind and thoughtful, she was smart as a whip and loved to do well in school to the point that he almost never had to tell her to do her homework, she actually liked spending time with him. But she never had a problem being open with him about damn near anything. 

It wasn’t always the most pleasant experience - hearing about boy problems when he couldn’t actually intervene was harder than Joel had expected it to be - but he was grateful for it. He never had to wonder what his daughter was up to, she just told him. 

Part of it, he was sure, was because he’d asked her to grow up too fast. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but it seemed to come with the territory of single parenthood. There was no one there to back him up when he had to work late, no one there to take over the child rearing when he was sick or just so exhausted from work that he slept through his damn alarm. Sarah fell into the role of second parent, sometimes raising herself as much as Joel had. 

He was just happy she didn’t resent him for it. She seemed to recognize how hard he’d tried to give her everything, do everything he possibly could to make her happy and give her a good life. Even if it hadn’t always worked, he’d always tried. The fact that she’d made it to college on scholarship, that she’d finished towards the top of her class, that she’d gotten a good paying job doing something she liked to do, the fact that she was happy and doing something with her mind instead of breaking her body down like Joel was every damn day of his life was the proudest he’d ever been of anything. 

Could he really risk his relationship with her for you? Yes, you made him happy. So fucking happy. You were the first thing in years that he felt like he really, truly wanted. And it had hit him hard, so fucking hard. It was like he’d saved up all his longing just for you, like it had been waiting for something powerful enough to show up and unleash it all and it had knocked him off his damn feet. 

But you were Sarah’s best friend. 

“So one thing that’s seriously lacking in the Pacific Northwest is good TexMex,” Sarah said, lounging on a pool float, her face tilted toward the sun, eyes closed. “Think we can go out for dinner tonight? I need enchiladas and tamales and I need them sooner rather than later.” 

“Only if you don’t get mad that I ask for the real spicy salsa,” Joel said. 

“How did I end up so cursed that my two favorite people love to melt their tongues off as a hobby?” Sarah sighed. “But fine, order the miserable stuff. I’ll just get the regular salsa like a normal person.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“The normal ship has sailed with you, Baby Girl. Me and Tommy around you so much? Never stood a chance.” 

Just an hour later, he and Sarah were headed into her favorite Austin restaurant. Joel added it to his mental list of places to take you. It was Sarah’s favorite for a reason, after all. 

“Table for two,” Joel held up two fingers to the hostess but Sarah cut him off. 

“It’s three, actually,” she smiled, not looking at him. 

“Three?” He frowned. She ignored him and just held up three fingers to the hostess. It took him until they were at the table to really put it together. “Sarah…” 

“I’m here to see you but I really want to see her, too,” she said as she slid into the booth. “And I do think you guys will really get along if you actually give it a shot. Please, Dad? Give her a chance?” 

A chance wasn’t the only thing he’d given you. 

“Baby Girl, I’m sure she’d rather do something besides…” 

“Besides what?” Your voice appeared over his shoulder, Joel turning toward the sound so fast it made his head spin. You smiled a little sheepishly. 

“Hi.” 

***

Well Joel clearly hadn’t been expecting you. 

That boded just so well. 

“Hey Bestie!” Sarah squealed and got out of the booth to throw her arms around your neck. You laughed and hugged her back. “Ugh, I miss you! The office sucks without you there. So does the rest of Seattle, honestly.” 

You laughed. 

“I miss you too,” you gave her a squeeze before the two of you separated. “I keep trying to convince the VP at this branch that I absolutely unequivocally need a junior copywriter on my team. He hasn’t bought it yet but I think if I just keep asking him I’ll wear him down and he’ll cave to my annoying tendencies and just give me whatever I want.”

“Oh so you’re playing hardball,” Sarah teased as she got back in the booth and you slid in beside her. 

“Clearly yes,” you nodded sagely. “I read ‘The Art of War’ and just bothering people until they give up is the best battle tactic in the world…” 

You turned to look at Joel who was watching you intently. 

You hadn’t expected Joel to show up tonight anymore than he’d expected you. Sarah was playing you both like a goddamn fiddle. You’d worn a strappy, silky slip dress with a denim jacket over it thinking you were going out with your best friend, not going to be stuck trying to keep from staring at your who-the-fuck-knows-what sitting across from you. 

Who also happened to be your best friend’s dad. 

You tried not to think about that part. 

“Figured I’d force you two to get to know each other better over margaritas,” Sarah said brightly. “I can’t let you both just sit and stare at a wall all by yourselves until I can move back to town…” 

“I don’t stare at walls!” You protested. Sarah ignored you. 

“So you can at least keep each other company,” she finished. 

“Good to see you again, Joel,” you said, trying as hard as you could to not picture him naked across the table. 

Which was really fucking hard. 

His dark button down was rolled up to his elbows and fit his damn broad shoulders so perfectly all you could think about was the way he looked as he fucked into you, the way his muscles rippled through his chest and you had to fight to not bite down on them. His hair was tamed without being sculpted or overly styled and you wanted to run your fingers through it and sink your grip into his scalp as he ate you. 

“You too,” he said. 

You’d never had this visceral of a reaction to a man you’d fucked before, never, not even when you were a stupid teenager. Of course, you’d never tried to hide your relationship before, either. 

But you had the feeling that wouldn’t matter with Joel. You’d feel this intensity toward him whether Sarah was beside you or not, whether you could be open about your affection for him or not. 

And now you were going to have to sit across from him when he looked that damn good all through dinner. 

The second the server came to the table you ordered a margarita. You had a feeling you were going to need the tequila. 

It took conscious effort to pay attention to what Sarah was saying as she tried to bring up things she thought you and Joel had in common. Almost like she was trying to launch an ad campaign for each of you. 

It felt like forever but you were sure you’d only been seated a few minutes when you gave up on not touching Joel. You carefully slid your foot out of your pump and started sliding it up his inner leg, starting near his ankle. Joel jumped a little in his chair at the contact, his eyes darting to you. You just raised your eyebrows at him as you took a drink from your margarita and slid your foot up his leg to his knee. He shifted in his seat, his eyes steadily on Sarah but you could tell he had to focus on her now, actively work to give her attention. You smirked a bit at that. 

You kept the pattern up as the three of you waited for your food, Joel’s eyes always going a little wide when your toes made it to his inner thigh. 

“Ugh, I’m starving,” Sarah groaned as a tray of sizzling fajitas passed your table. “Here, scootch out, I’m going to the bathroom. That’ll make the food come.” 

“It always does,” you agreed, quickly shoving your foot back into your shoe and getting out of the booth. 

You both watched as Sarah made her way across the restaurant, turning to Joel the second you knew she was out of earshot. 

“Did you say anything?” You were whispering anyway. 

“No,” he replied. “We hadn’t talked about it, didn’t seem like the time… Did you say somethin’?” 

“Not a word,” you said. 

“I really need you to cool it over there, Beautiful,” Joel said. Any other time, you’d think he was teasing you but his eyes looked open and earnest now. “We can’t just go into a bathroom right now and it’s already a fucking miracle I haven’t tried to rip that goddamn dress off you, Jesus Christ, you can’t just show up places lookin’ that damn good…” “You’re one to talk!” You replied, incredulous, as you looked down at his exposed, tan, muscled forearms and back up at his face. “Fucking hell, Joel!” 

He smirked a little. 

“That’s all it takes with you, huh?” He teased, leaning across the table toward you. “Just a little bit of skin and you’re outta control?”

“Oh fuck off,” you rolled your eyes but grinned a little all the same. “I know you know what the rolled up sleeves thing does to women.” 

“I promise I do not,” he said, watching over your shoulder now. “But you’ll have to enlighten me later…” 

Sarah came back to the table and her face fell. 

“Shit, that usually works,” she sighed. “Alright, scoot in, we can just trade spots.” 

You obeyed and slid over, purposely leaning over the table as you did, giving Joel full view of your bra below your dress as you did. He was all but glaring at you as you sat back in the booth. 

Consciously, you knew you shouldn’t be pushing him like this. For starters, this was not how you wanted Sarah to find out. Assuming she was ever going to find out. 

But you shouldn’t be trying to frustrate Joel. Not like this, not so early on in your… whatever the fuck this was. 

You had a tendency to do this, to bend things until they broke the second something was looking like it could get serious, the second that it looked like it’d be worth the time and the effort. You were starting to think it was something your subconscious did on purpose. If you sabotaged the relationship early, there wasn’t the same kind of risk. Push the guy too far and he’d break things off with you and you could return to the relative emotional safety of dating apps and bars. Only ever go out with someone for a few weeks and it wouldn’t hurt that bad if they left. 

And they would leave. They always left. You might be worth the time for a bit but you weren’t worth the trouble for anything real, that much had been made clear to you in the years you’d spent dating around. It had gotten you hurt when you were young and stupid, back when you were Sarah’s age. Now, you fucking knew better. 

You knew better than to get anywhere close to what you were starting to feel with Joel. 

And here you were, doing it anyway, with your best friend’s dad. 

So of course your first reaction was to push him. Push, push, push. It’s what you did. 

You stirred your melting margarita. 

You’d never been more relieved to have food brought to your table. 

“Thanks so much for coming out tonight!” Sarah hugged you goodbye in the parking lot, the awkward, hesitant conversation at the table through dinner still tense over you. 

“It was so great to see you!” You hugged her back and kissed her cheek. “Seriously, I’m wearing the bosses down, start packing now because I miss you too much.” 

She laughed. 

“I’ll be on the first plane out once I get a job offer,” she said. “Either way, I’ll be back for the holidays, we have to hang out then. Just us girls at least once, promise.” 

You smiled a little, hoping Sarah would still want to talk to you at the holidays. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

Joel gave you a tight smile and a nod. 

“Talk to you soon?” He said, his voice too open and honest to fit the shared awkwardness of your position feet apart in the parking lot. 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Text me?” 

“Sure,” he smiled back. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the second you were in the door, only pausing to take your shoes off as you made your way to the kitchen. You settled in on the couch without bothering to change, carrying the bottle of wine with you, and you put on some shitty Netflix reality show you could zone out and barely pay attention to. 

You were four episodes deep when your phone lit up. 

“Fuck that was hard,” Joel texted. 

You smiled a little. 

“Was that hard or were you hard?” You texted back. 

“Both,” he replied almost immediately. Your smile grew and you downed the last of the wine. 

You hadn’t had enough to drink to be drunk but you’d had enough that it made you feel… bold. Like you wanted to try something new. 

You took off your jacket and slid the straps of your dress down so your cleavage was spilling over the top of it, your breasts barely contained by it. You took a selfie, a needy look on your face, and sent him the picture. 

“Need help with that?” You asked. 

“Jesus Christ,” he texted back almost immediately. “Good thing Sarah just went to call some boy she started seeing back in Washington, can’t just send a guy shit like that and expect him to sit still.” 

You bit your lip for a second, getting an idea. You headed for your room and shimmied out of the dress before you put on the sexiest bra you owned and switched to the matching panties. You posed in the full length mirror in the corner of your room, one leg out, a hand on your hip. 

“What about shit like this?” You asked as you sent the picture along. 

“Really fucking mean for you to send that when you know I can’t come take it off you,” he texted back. 

You flopped down on your stomach on your bed, reminded of how you felt texting guys when you were younger and you had to make sure you didn’t go over your texting limit for the month. 

“You can always fight back you know,” you said. “I can’t come rip your clothes off either.” 

“You trying to get me to sext with you?” He asked. 

“Maybe.” 

It took a few minutes before he sent you a picture. He was in his room, stripped down to his boxer briefs. He fisted his cock through the fabric of them, the veins on his hand prominent. 

“Something like this?” He asked. 

You groaned, your hand sliding to your clit before you even thought about it. You rolled onto your back and took a picture of your hand slipping into your panties before sending it on. 

“Just like that,” you replied. 

“Fuck.” 

The one word was all he sent for a minute before he followed it up with a picture of his cock in his hand. You moaned at the sight of him, a pearl of pre-come leaking from his swollen head. You wanted to swallow it up, lick up and down his thick shaft, take all of him in your mouth until you were choking on him and he spilled down your throat. 

“Tried to make this last but you’re too fucking much for me,” he texted. “Couldn’t wait.” 

You took off your bra and tossed it to the floor before taking a handful of your breast in your hand, holding the phone high over your head, high enough that it could capture your needy expression and the way you were touching yourself. 

“Neither could I.” 

Usually, when you fucked yourself, you used toys. You had a few that you’d become partial to over the years of cycling through men and relationships, the fake dicks in your life lasting a whole hell of a lot longer than the real ones. 

Tonight, you didn’t need one. Didn’t think you could pull yourself away from touching your own body long enough to pull one out, not with Joel’s face and body and cock on the brain. You slid your hand down your chest, your stomach, back to your pussy. You rubbed your clit in little circles with your index finger as you stretched your middle finger down, down, down toward your dripping hole. 

When his next message came through, you dropped your phone in your rush to open it and you scrambled to pick it up with one hand, your other one too occupied to want to do anything else. 

This time, it was a video. His large hand was working his thick length, his cock still looking big even in his grasp that dwarfed your own. He worked his cock slowly, his thumb sweeping over the head and collecting the pre-come before he slid it firmly down with quiet moan. 

“Fuck, I need you,” his voice was soft, a whisper. “Need to feel that perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You were about to rewatch the video, your mouth watering, when he texted again. 

“Can I call you?” 

You didn’t respond. Instead, you just called him, putting the phone to speaker and setting it on your chest between your breasts. 

He answered on the first ring. 

“Hey beautiful,” he said, voice low and dark and needy. “Fuck, I gotta be quiet…” 

“I know,” you said, whispering back even though you didn’t have a reason to. “Don’t care, as long as I can hear you.” 

“Tell me what you’re doin’ to yourself,” he was almost panting. “What you’re thinkin’ about…” 

“I’m rubbing my clit,” you moaned. “Got one finger inside of myself, thinking about you eating me out last night…” 

“Fuck you tasted so good,” his voice became a little more strained. “Wanna taste you right now.” 

You moaned and fucked yourself a little harder, a little faster, your eyes closed in pleasure. 

“Add another finger,” he said. “Want you to work up to this cock, want you thinking about me deep in you when you come.” 

“Fuck Joel,” you were panting now, too, as you added another finger. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking now,” he whispered. 

“You pushing into me,” you groaned it. “Opening me up for you…” 

“Fuck, Beautiful, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 

You heard the pace of his hand increase on the other end of the phone and you worked your pussy a little harder and faster, too, whimpering as you did. 

“Can you fit a third finger?” He panted. 

“Yes,” you managed, getting desperate, your body starting to feel tight, all the heat of you drawing deep into yourself. 

“Add it,” he groaned. “Fuck yourself deep, hard. Fuck yourself like I fucked you last night, how I’d fuck you right now if I were there.” 

You obeyed, thrusting your fingers in as deep as you could reach, whimpering at the stretch that you knew had nothing on his thick cock. 

“You were so fucking deep,” your legs were restless, the tightness extending so far down that you knew your orgasm was going to make your whole body quake. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn big, Joel…” 

“And you take me so fucking well,” he panted. “Take me like you were made to take this cock, fuck!” 

“I was made to take you,” you whimpered, desperate and aching. “Made to make you come, need you to fucking come, please Joel, please come for me…” 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!” It was a choking, strangled whisper and you heard him muffle his moaning in a pillow, the sound of his pleasure sending you over the edge. 

It was the hardest you’d ever come from your own hand, harder than you’d ever come with a vibrator, almost as hard as you came with Joel deep inside you the night before. Your body throbbed with it, so much that it felt like your fingers might break as they stuffed your overwrought pussy full. You all but sobbed as you kept working your clit, even as it was too much, fucking yourself through your own orgasm the way you knew Joel would if he were buried inside you instead of in his own fist. Once it was over, you slowly, gently, pulled your hand away from your dripping slit. 

“Fucking hell, Beautiful,” he said after a minute, still trying to catch his breath. You smiled and laughed a little. “Christ, I hope Sarah didn’t hear that.” 

“You stayed a lot quieter than me,” you were whispering again. It was fun to whisper into the phone with him, like you were going behind your parents’ backs with it. 

“Still,” he said before he sighed. “I gotta go clean up, you made me make a hell of a mess.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you smirked a little, looking at the slick gathered on your fingers. 

“Can I text you tomorrow while you’re at work?” He asked quietly. “Something tells me I’m gonna miss you like crazy.” 

“Course,” you smiled, settling down into your mattress. “Text me whenever you want, I always want to hear from you.” 

Maybe it was the post-orgasm haze but you didn’t care that it sounded desperate. 

“Good,” he said. “Because hearin’ from you always makes my damn day.” 

You smiled at that. 

“Miss you, Beautiful.” 

You smiled bigger. 

“Miss you, too.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Awww doubt is creeping in and they're still fucking each other's brains out from afar.

We love to see it!

Thank you so much for following along with this story! These two are so fun to write and I hope you're enjoying their journey. Love you all!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut

[toournextadventure]

I LOVE your Wednesday! I was wondering if you can write a Wednesday/gn!Reader where the reader writes to her a love letter and wants to give it to her with a black rose but they see Xavier give to her the cellphone so, thinking they're dating, Reader just throws away the letter and the rose.

Wednesday finds them..

Looky looky here, two fics in one day. This one was fun to write, I loved the idea!

im no poet

You were no writer. No amount of your rambling thoughts could compare to those of Shakespeare, Hemingway, or even Wednesday Addams. All those big emotions came out in actions, not words, and not even your mouth could keep up or properly convey all you wanted to. No, most of those big, bottled up feelings ended up left unspoken.

But for Wednesday, you gave it a try.

It had started with a very heated debate about the phrase “actions speak louder than words.” She, of course, had opted to disagree, claiming her words spoke pretty loud. They sure do, you thought as you shook your head and counter-argued. It was by no means an argument, much more of an actual debate with each side presenting their case.

You lost. Because, as you had previously pointed out, you were not good with your words.

Not a bad thing though, you realised once you sat down to try and write out how you felt. The first few paragraphs were messy; no structure, no reason, barely coherent. You crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the corner of the room, not even attempting to hit the trash can. But you pulled out another piece of paper and started again.

It took half a notebook before you could even start making sense of your words. Even then, it wasn’t what you wanted to say. How could you even start to explain why you were writing such a letter? Should you start it off with “Hello, I think I’m in love with you?” Words wouldn’t work.

Words wouldn’t work.

You put your pen to paper - the third pen you had ruined so far - and started explaining your emotions the only way you knew how: with actions. The feelings she envoked in you couldn’t be put into words, not so simply. No, because she made you want to live, and living was such a beautiful thing. That rare smile of hers made you feel as if you were running through the farm of your childhood. Laughing as you ran up and down the crop rows until your bare feet were dirty and tired and you collapsed in the field with the feeling of utter peace that only a child could experience.

Being with her made you want to do every little thing she had never considered was important to her. It made you want to bring her coffee whenever she was writing, or turning the page of her music as she played. You would connect your headphones whenever she came in because you knew she liked the silence. Or grabbing all the songs she enjoyed and turning them into a personalised record that she could use without having to switch them out all the time.

When it was all said and done, you had exhausted five pens, half a notebook, and came out with three pages of a written confession.

You had asked Miss Thornhill if you could raid the greenhouse. It wasn’t that you were a teacher’s pet, but you knew how to kiss up when needed. She agreed quickly, and all you had to give up were a few Saturdays of your time to help clean up and organise. A fair trade, no consideration needed.

The Black Dahlias weren’t in bloom, so you hoped Wednesday would settle for a black rose. That was still romantic, right? It was black, at least, that had to count for something. A small envelope, a single black rose, your bright shining face. What more could she want?

“I already put my number in it,” Xavier’s voice rang out even though he was talking fairly quietly.

He bought her a phone. The very thing she had adamantly refused to become a slave to. Yet she took it from him anyway. Oh, you thought with a furrow of your brows. Suddenly the items in your hand felt like lead, weighing you down and you almost wished they would drag you under the ground to escape.

It had been a crapshoot to make a move, you knew that anyway, but it still hurt nonetheless. Wednesday gave the equivalent of a smile, and you nodded to yourself in silent acceptance. You wouldn’t ever wish to put her in a position to “choose” between two people. So instead you turned around and started walking off. You only paused at a trash can to drop the rose and letter inside, patting the cold silver can twice before walking away.

You didn’t see Wednesday watch you leave with worry in her eyes.

“Go see,” Xavier said with a gesture of his head.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate to walk over to the trash can and pick up the rose and envelope. The sight of the flower made her heart race; had you gotten that for her? What had possessed you to get her something like that? You knew she was difficult to get along with, why would you go out of your way to get her a rose in her favourite colour?

And the envelope. It had her name on it.

“What’s their number?” Wednesday asked Xavier. He gave her a smile and gestured for her to hand him her phone.

—---

You practically fell onto the bench in the lockerroom of your hometown gym. After getting out of school a few weeks ago, you had thrown yourself into helping out at the gym. The owner was a family friend and he had quickly accepted your offer. It was an added bonus that he gave you full access to the gym, too.

It was almost time to start closing up, but you had managed to get a good workout in once everyone was gone. Hell, you deserved it, the girl you were in love with was very clearly not in love with you. In fact, she was nice and happy, and even though that’s all you wanted, it still hurt. 

You never even told her, your mind thought.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled as your head fell into your hands.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up to your feet and grabbed your change of clothes from your bag. Maybe you just needed to change and get home so you could wallow in your self-pity and fall asleep with some Kitchen Nightmares on in the background. That would surely keep your mind busy. God, you were pathetic.

You were pulling your clean shirt back over your head when your phone vibrated against the bench. No one should have been texting you this late, everyone you talked to knew you were usually asleep. Besides, why would they be texting you this late? Didn’t they know you were in mourning?

The screen lit up when you held your face over it, still adjusting your clothes to fit properly.

Unknown Number: You forgot this. 1 Attachment.

“Oh fuck.” It was a photo of the rose and envelope with Wednesday’s name on it.

You: I’m sorry. You can toss it I didn’t know about Xavier

Oh god, why was this happening? Why did this have to happen? Getting silently rejected was hard enough, but now there was going to be humiliation too? You lifted your hands to grab the sides of your head as you started pacing, trying to keep yourself grounded. That’s it, you weren’t going back to Nevermore. Nope, you were going to run away, maybe live in the woods and find a Bigfoot family to take care of you.

The phone vibrated again and you rushed over.

Unknown: Did you mean it? What you wrote.

“Fuck!” You shouted. What did you say? There’s no way you could say “Yes, Wednesday, I meant every word of devotion that I wrote on that letter. Tell your boyfriend I said hi.” But if you didn’t let her know now, it was going to eat away at you until the day you died. Fuck fuck fuck!

You grabbed the phone and typed out the one word, but your thumbs stilled over the “send” button while your heart tried to beat out of your chest.

You pressed send.

You: Yes

“Oh shit,” you groaned. Your hands were getting clammy. “Why did I do that.” Oh god. Oh shit. Why wasn’t she answering? There goes any chance of even being friends again. You were going to have to change your name and run away. Surely your family would understand, right? Yeah, they could even help you come up with a new identity.

The vibration against the bench was about to send you into a frenzy.

Unknown: Call me tomorrow night. We can watch the new Scream movie.

You had never typed so fast in your life.

You: Is this a date?

The text couldn’t come quickly enough.

Unknown: Yes. But if you tell anyone, I will remove your tongue.

You stared at your phone in utter disbelief. A date. With Wednesday Addams. A real date with the girl you were highkey in love with. Your letter had worked. It had worked!

You: It’s a date

A smile took over your face as you put your phone back into your bag. You had a date.

“Fuck yes!” You shouted as you threw your fist in the air. You were definitely calling out of work tomorrow.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #requests

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown Pt. 7

Pt.1 prev ao3

Jason (cute guy from library): Hey you mentioned that you like Astronomy right?

: Yeah! It's one of my favorite topics. Why?

Jason (cute guy from the library): well, it's just that, the Gotham planetarium is holding a special event this Saturday for a special comet or something, and I was wondering if you wanted to go? Here are the details:

[Open Attachment]

: !!! I would love to! That sounds like so much fun!

Jason (cute guy from the library): great! I'll pick you up at 6 on Saturday then? Or would you rather meet me there?

: I wouldn't mind if you picked me up :o

Jason (cute guy front he library): Awesome! I can't wait.

: me neither! This is gonna be so much fun! I'll see you then!

“Hey Danny,” Anne called from her place leaning against the counter. “Who’re you smiling at?” she asked with a smirk, " a cute girl?"

"Heh, not exactly," Danny responded, one hand moving to rub at his neck.

Anne raised one eyebrow. "A cute guy then?" Evidently she took the blush rising in his cheeks as a yes. "Ooooh what's his name? How'd you meet? Tell me everything."

Danny couldn't help but smile as he responded, if a bit stuttery, "Oh, uh, his name is Jason. I met him at the library the other day, he uh- he caught me when I tripped," he said, blushing. Anne just nodded.

"Know anything much about him yet?"

"Yeah! He's really into classic literature and he must workout or something because his biceps are huge and-" Anne cut him off as the bell at the door chimed and she had to take care of the customer. Once they ordered she gestured for Danny to continue.

"He sounds really great, you have any plans?" She asked.

"Yeah actually, we're going to the planetarium this Saturday. And it's really cool because I haven't been able to go properly stargazing since I moved here, but he offered cause he found out how into Astronomy and stuff I am." Of course there was that once he had tried flying above the smog of Gotham to see the stars, but it was like it just went on and on. Then of course when he had finally managed to get past the cloud cover he had almost gotten run over by a plane. Danny hadn't attempted since.

And it was really sweet of Jason to have suggested it. In fact Danny didn't even remember mentioning stargazing all that much In the first place. They had been texting basically non stop for a couple days now so maybe it was an off hand comment, but he had been sure to spare the man from any major info dumping so as not to scare him off. Although it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway considering how big of a dork Jason turned out to be.

Danny was pulled from his musings by a short string of curses followed by a loud thump. "Work you fucker dammit-"

"You need help with that?" He asked. Anne looked up from the espresso machine she was practically wrestling with, looking like she was mere seconds away from sending it through the window.

"Sorry, it's been acting up all day, I think it's jammed or something," she replied, moving out of the way as Danny scooted behind the counter. " I don't really know what you could do, but be careful its still kind of hot" she trailed off as he began disassembling the machine. Gaping a bit when he touched the peices that should be burning his hand off with no more than a second glance.

"Got it," he said after a few minutes, "Your group head is blocked- here I'll clean it out. But otherwise it should be fine. I would keep an eye on the thermal fuse though, it's looking near to the end of its life expectancy, and that could be a problem later." Anne looked practically awestruck as Danny reassembled the machine and started another batch of coffee with ease. Within minutes it was humming.

"How'd you do that?" She asked as he slipped back to his stool on the other side of the counter.

"Oh, uh, my friends Sam had an espresso machine just like that. She used to let me take it apart because it would annoy her parents and I wanted to see how it worked."

In lieu of answering Anne just nodded as she took in the information and went back to preparing the customer's order. The two fell into companionable silence as she set about cleaning behind the bar, and Danny delved into his chemistry homework.

About 20 minutes later a steaming cup of hot coco, topped with a mountian of cream and chocolate shavings, slid across the bar toward Danny. He looked up at Anne who gave him a small smile as she turned back to cleaning.

"Thanks,"

"Yeah well, you fixed this temperamental beast, I figured you deserved it," she said, jabbing a thumb toward the espresso machine.

"Thanks anyway,"

They lapsed back into silence for a few more hours. By now the hot coco had been throughly drained, the mug long since cleaned and put away. Everyone except for Danny had long gone and Anne was flipping the sign on the door.

"Alright dude, I have to kick you out at some point."

"Awwwww do you have too?" Danny groaned but began packing his things anyway.

"Yup," she said, popping the p, " its closing time and my shift is over.

"Damn, and I thought we were friends," that just made Anne roll her eyes and snort.

"I was technically supposed to close half an hour ago, you're lucky I let you stay this long," she retorted.

"Yeah yeah," Danny said, lacing sarcasm into voice. "You good to head home by yourself?" He asked a bit more genuinely.

"Mhm, I'm just around the block, you?"

"Yeah I'm good, see you tomorrow."

"Ditto, and good luck on your date," she said, ushering him out the door.

Danny watched his friend leave until she turned the corner two blocks down because you can never be too cautious in Gotham, even if the girl was born and raised here. Content that she could get home safe, he turned and began the trek back to his dorm, keeping his heightened senses on high alert. It was almost one in the morning which meant most of Gotham’s nightlife was still buzzing around the streets, however that did nothing to calm his nerves as the familiar feeling of being watched began to prickle at his skin.

Danny was still ten minutes away from his building when a strangled gasp caught in his throat. 'Oh what is it now?' He thought, turning to scan his surroundings mostly for a certain hooded crime lord. And sure enough, the man himself jumped off a nearby fire escape to land in front of the half-ghost.

"Hood," he greeted as the man attempted

to pull him toward a nearby alley. Danny didn't budge, instead he folded his arms and lifted an eyebrow. Honestly Red Hood wasn't all that scary when your blood isn't pumped full of adrenaline, beside what could the guy really do to Danny? Shoot him? Like that would do anything. It was honestly laughable how he had been so scared of the man. Besides after two weeks of being followed around by the guy, Danny was kind of over the whole 'oh Ancients he's a crime lord who can and will shatter my kneecaps' thing,

"Finally work up the courage to talk to me rather than stalk me from afar?" He asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

At that remark Hood gave up trying to move the half ghost and instead settled into his on defensive position, mirroring Danny.

"I wasn't scared of talking to you," he said, exasperation clear in his voice despite the modulator. "Besides I need to warn you about something important."

Danny only raised his eyebrow higher, sounding entirely unconcerned as he spoke, "Oh so you're not even denying the stalker allegations?" He snorted. and after choking on frozen air because of him every single day, Danny may have been a little spiteful. Suffice to say, it felt nice watching the vigilante splutter a bit before responding.

"How did you-? Fuck whatever it doesn't matter," Hood muttered, " I just wanted to let you know that Bats is looking into you." Yeah, Danny had expected this. Albeit a bit sooner, but still.

"And?" He gestured for Hood to continue

"And. He's planning on visiting your dorm tonight so I thought i'd give you a heads up." He huffed.

"Well, thanks I guess?" Danny said, shifting his weight to his heels. Hood didn't say anything else so Danny filled the silence instead. "Well ,if that's all, i'm going to, y'know, go home. These street aren't really safe at night. Might run into a mob boss or get mugged or something"

It didn't take much longer for Danny to get to his dorm. Tristan was supposed to be gone for the night so it was the perfect time, if any, for a confrontation with the bat himself. 'Alright, lets get this over with' He thought as he locked the door.

---------------

Pt.8

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #dc #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #jason todd #batman #bucket writes things #when you accidentally kill a clown #fic #mostly setup tbh #not my favourite work but itll do

[velvethopewrites]

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro.  There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate. 

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once.  As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy.  They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow.  Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…”  Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah) 

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

[widow-maximov]

Hi, can I request a Nat x fem!reader oneshot where the reader is singing Russian songs she's heard from Natasha's playlist while doing mundane tasks ie paperwork, washing up dishes etc. The reader not knowing a lot of Russian doesn't realise how explicit the songs are just casually sings them in front of the whole avenger's team splitting the group with the members who can speak Russian finding it hilarious and those who can't just thinking it's a good song and Natasha's just sat there with a whole array of mixed emotions but is mostly impressed with how well the reader is singing.

Thanks in advance :)

Russian Songs

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

Warning: The usual tags I don’t really know what other tags would go here, just enjoy :3

Summary: After being moved away from missions and doing everyone's chores. You wanted to be more productive, but was that a good choice?

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: So I couldn't find any explicit songs per say, but I hope this song will work, it's very hard to look for songs in another language, anyway I hope yous enjoy.

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You were known to be a singer, well that's around the compound of course, you weren't brave enough to sing in front of thousands of people.

You loved singing all your life but your passion for doing good was too strong and it won over your life. If you were honest, not many knew about your singing ability.

It's not like you would be parading around and singing, it was mostly when you were doing mundane tasks, or when no one was around. It was like your little secret you didn't want to share with the group.

Even after dating Natasha for 2 years, she still had no clue you could sing and she was a spy so that was surprising, that was until recently..

During training with your redhead girlfriend, she has been putting light music but most of it was in Russian, meaning you couldn't understand anything.

It almost sounded like a challenge to you, to learn that song by heart and because it was catchy so you wanted sing it properly and just enjoy what it meant.

But that was exactly that, you didn't understand it so you didn't know what you were learning, even though that didn't stop you, you still learnt it- Well some of the words.

Somehow you ended up doing all of the chores in the tower, actually there was a reason, Natasha along with Tony came up with a 'punishment' for you.

Your own girlfriend came up with a punishment for you, it was because you ended up surrounded by hydra men, who had you tied up and ready to transport as way to kidnap you and use you to get out what they wanted for the Avengers.

It wasn't even your fault, Shields information was misleading that you ended up in the wrong section of the building, with tooo many armed men and you knew you didn't have a chance so you were glad when Steve along with Bucky were sent to help.

That's how you ended up doing months of cleaning, instead of missions, meaning you cooked, cleaned like washing up, paperwork of your teammates.

Natasha was nice enough to leave her own paperwork to herself to not over work you but that didn't mean you weren't tired, of course you stopped training with her as a way to show her you were mad at her.

But still the redhead knew, you wouldn't be mad for too long. When she found out that you were near to being kidnapped, she got scared.

The love of her life was in danger and she couldn't even save you. That's what got to her, that was the reason why she agreed to the punishment.

It kept you off the missions for a while, she knew you would be safe at the tower. Even if you were mad at her, giving her a cold shoulder most of the day, she knew you were safe.

Eventually she was going to talk to you, when things cooled off a little. But seeing how tired you were every night made her feel bad. She done this to you, with good intentions.

But maybe you didn't see it like that. Natasha never overthought before, she was there in the moment. But with you, she was afraid of losing you.

She loved you, so the thought of you getting brutally beaten, whilst she was so far away from you was taking a big toll on her. Seeing you clean and do everything else was easy to watch. To know that you were there.

That's what was happening right now. Everyone including you were in the living room. Well you was cleaning with headphones on, as after doing so many chores for months. You eventually got bored and just started to listen to music.

Helped to kill your time a little, whilst learning songs that you wanted to know. Being with the Russian has taught you some words. So whenever you heard a similar word you smiled, humming it silently.

Your back was to the door whilst you were washing up. In that moment the team went silence and your singing was exposed to everyone who had ears. Natasha's brows raised in amusement as she listened to what you were singing.

Everyone turned around to look at you. Half of the team understanding what you were singing and half was looking with confusion.

Tony was first to speak up. "Is she singing a Russian song?" He questioned as she looked over at Natasha.

She simply nodded with a big smile across her lips, she didn't know that her girlfriend was this talented. Thor smirked. "If my girlfriend sung like Y/n, I wouldn't even let her stop. I bet you are the same Natasha."

She would definitely beg you to sing for her many times if she knew that you could. She knew that you would be embarrassed about it but still follow through.

She still kept quiet as she listened carefully to your words. "Я заливаю глаза керосином...Пусть всё горит, пусть всё горит ( I fill my eyes with kerosene. Let it all burn, let it all burn )"

She nearly choked on the song choice that was spilling out of your mouth. Yelena, along with Clint, Thor and Bucky, looked over at Natasha for some sort of explanation. But there was none.

Yelena laughed, as she stared at her sister when you sang the words. "Выхожу на улицу гладить кота. А его переезжает тачка мента (I go outside to pet the cat. And he's being run over by a cop's car.)"

Shaking her head in disapproval. "What have you taught this poor innocent girl."

Natasha frowned. "That wasn't me. I mean I listened to this song whilst we trained but I didn't know she could sing it."

Tony was having the time of his life whilst he nodded his head at your singing. "Whatever it is, I love it. She will sing at the next event I have."

Natasha shook her head, knowing that when you find out what that songs means you'll be embarrassed to even face the team. Bucky smirked as he nodded his head. "I think that song suits you Natasha, maybe next time explain to your girlfriend what she is trying to sing."

You tried to sing the song perfectly but not knowing what it meant you mumbled most of the lyrics. Carol walked in as her jaw opened to hear the song leak out of your mouth.

"Why is everyone laughing? Someone tell her what she is saying." Carol walked over after waving at you with a fake smile.

Natasha sighed as she knew it had to be her. She nodded as she stood up, making her way towards you. Wanda rushed in as she heard it as well. Finding it all amusing at how you didn't even know what you were saying. Vision appeared, literally everyone was there. Tuning in on your conversation with the Russian.

Natasha gently tapped your shoulder, you looked over, saw her and went back to listening to the song. She sighed, yeah you were still mad at her.

She got closer, pressed herself against your back, taking the cloth out of your hand and the plate that you were wiping clean. Placing it all down as she spun you round to face her.

For a moment you forgot what you were mad about, this is the closet you two have been since the day you received punishment. Your hands hesitantly fell on her shoulders, whilst she took the headphones out.

"Y/n.. Sweetie.. Stop singing." She tried to say it nicely, but she set you off.

You narrowed your eyes at her. "Not only you ground me in the tower but now you're also telling me what to do."

"You know.. This is my choice if I want to sing or not. You can't tell me what to do." That was sometimes the issue with you. Instead of listening to why she said that. You put up walls and tried to deflect any attack on you.

She sighed as she placed her hand over your mouth, the other sat firmly on your hip. You loved when Natasha was dominant with you, it made her look a lot more sexier but not when you were angry.

"Not because I am trying to control you... But because you don't know what you are singing.." She approached it another way. She had to embarrass you for you to understand what she meant.

You swallowed thick at her words, eyes widen in fear at what your girlfriend was saying. So, she continued. "Have you even tried to look up the translation of the lyrics?"

You shook your head after Natasha took her hand away, this was on the Russian. She should've told you what it meant whilst yous were training. But she was so distracted by you and your body that songs just slipped her mind.

Her eyes darted towards the team, who somehow had popcorn appear in their hands. She narrowed her eyes at Wanda, who simply shrugged as she shoved more popcorn in her mouth.

That's when you got the hint that everyone heard you. Fear set when you looked over. You looked back at the redhead who had a cold expression across her face.

"Let me go. I need to go." You were slightly panicking, you never had anyone listen to you singing, you kept it quite quiet from literally everyone you knew.

Natasha's face softened up as she saw your panic. "Y/n it's okay-"

But you interrupted her. "Let. Me. Go." Your eyes flashes red and she moved away, causing you to storm out. Making the redhead sigh as she leaned back on the counter.

Moving to look at the team who now was looking anywhere but at Natasha. She rolled her eyes at them as she followed you out. It was easy to tell where you had wondered off. I mean she was your girlfriend after all.

As you sat on the balcony edge, looking down at the city. Natasha slowly made her way over to you. "Y/n.." She spoke softly, trying to get your attention so you don't get startled.

You sighed as you heard her, you knew she would follow you out here. "You know the whole point of walking out is not to be followed." You were bitter with right reasons.

It wasn't just the singing, it was the unresolved feelings that you both held. She knew that, she wanted to say something about it all the time but it never left her mouth.

She hummed softly, acknowledging your words. "I followed you out because I care Y/n."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her words. "I wonder where those words were, when I was punished for being the victim."

She knew you were right, how was she suppose to explain her feelings to you? It was all difficult but she had to. She took a deep breath. Looking at your side profile as she moved her hand over to yours. Gently taking it and intertwining it together.

"детка, I know you are mad. I would be too but I didn't do it if I didn't feel like it was necessary." Maybe it was the way she worded it, but that only made you more angry.

Your head snapped towards her, almost making her take a step back. "You're making decisions for me? Wasn't you the one who promised me that we would both take decisions as you never wanted me to feel the way you felt in the red room?"

That stung, but you were right. Natasha promised exactly that and she broke that when she decided your own fate. She sighed, feeling how you snatched your hand away.

Jumped off the edge and tried to make your way back inside the building, but Natasha had different plans for you. "I did what I did because I was scared."

Her words made you stop, you were still facing away from her but kept quiet so she could continue. "When I received the information that you were no where to be found. That your weapons along with most of your clothes were left at the scene. I thought I was going to die from how much fear I felt."

You never heard Natasha's voice that unsure. Her tone was always gentle and quiet when she opened up to you. Now you were facing the door as she spoke with an upset tone.

"It felt like the world stopped for a moment. The first thing I wanted to do was to rush over there but Nick stopped me. They knew that if I went everything could go even worse." She explained as her voice broke several times.

"I can't imagine my life without Y/n, how was I suppose to think straight when you were kidnapped. I knew you were scared I couldn't even be there." Tears were streaming down her face.

"I knew the second we found you, in that state of barely any conconse, I knew I needed you safely here. Where I could keep my eye on you."

"I know that I should've spoke to you about all of this, but I couldn't.." Her tone was just above a whisper. Yet you could hear her.

You turned your body around to face her. Tears sitting tightly on the edge of your eyelids as you stared at her. Maybe you didn't think this through.

Maybe you should've spoke to her after everything. You were so busy with trying to get over the traumatic experience that you didn't think how that impacted her.

The woman that you love with your whole heart. You were busy being angry at her for not comforting you when you needed it, when in reality it was both of you that needed each other.

A light sob came out of your mouth as you walked over to Nat. Hugging her tightly and melting almost instantly in the embrace. You missed her and you knew she missed you too.

No words were needed at this moment whilst she held you tightly against her. Like she haven't seen you for a long time.

You both were crying but you pulled yourself together. Pulling away as you looked at her. Sandwiching her face between your hands. "I'm sorry."

Her soft expression melted your heart and to be fair, if the Russian was honest. You were the only one who made her this open about her feelings.

She shook her head slightly with a small smile across her lips. "No, I am sorry."

You sniffled as her hands sat on your hips, holding you against her quite close. You could tell that she was telling the truth. You never had to doubt her from the way her eyes only looked for yours.

"I want to kiss you." Natasha choked out, letting a set of tears slowly roll down her cheek.

You smiled as you pressed your forehead against hers. Closing your eyes as you felt her breath hit your lips ever so gently. "What are you waiting for?"

She didn't need to say anything else, because thats all she wanted to do for the past months of you being angry. She wanted you close and just to feel your warmth against her lips.

She leaned in slowly as her lips brushed against yours. Feeling how soft your lips felt was really testing her. She missed you so much. Everything about you.

Zero thoughts were in both of your minds as all that you were really focused on, was feeling Natasha. Her hands tightly holding you, her lips against yours as you tried to keep your breath steady.

She pulled away just a little bit as she muttered out. "I love you" Before her lips collided with yours before you had the chance to say it back.

A slightly protest moan escape your mouth, you wanted to say it back but Natasha didn't let you. Her hands sliding around your body. Not letting you out of her arms.

The emotions changed quite quickly but could you blame yourself? You missed each other very much and being in her arms was the only place that felt like safety you needed right now.

Your fingers tangled in her hair and thats the only thing that was on your mind. The warmth-ish air breezing past the two of you as your embrace became more intimate.

That's what you loved about being with her. The power that you two can over come anything that stood in your way....

And make out whilst you are at it.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

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@eilarch, @simp-erformarvelwomen, @madamevirgo @diaryoflife @theprassebox @marvelwomen-simp @razorscooteer @bentleywolf29 @romaaa28 @romanoff-maximoff-lover @fayhar @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ellietorres123 @1uthina @zealousbarbariandonut @alwaysgoodnight @bisexualmess8 @suckerfornatstits @marvel-mcu-3000 @alianovnam @beenicejoy @wandanatvoid @d14n4ol @acertainredhead @xxromanoffxx @sinfulair @jjstar9898 @thewidowsghost @smallestavenger @hot4milfs @androgynouscloudenemy @marie45019 @simpforolderwomen @sammi1642 @gae4redheads @froufrousnowman @princessprudy @lovelyy-moonlight @wizardofstories @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @natashasilverfox @lorsstar1st @teamkiddosp @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @summergeezburr @inluvwithfictionalwomen @aeroae @wackymcstupid @immadowhateva

#black widow #natalia romanova #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x you #black widow x reader #natasha fluff #the avengers #marvel

[madiomens]

I would love to see a cute fluffy Halloween with reader and Noah. Go to the pumpkin patch, freeze together and keep each other warm, come home, carve pumpkins.. all of it 🥰

Hi!! Thank you for requesting <3

I had so much fun writing this. It's so cute :')

Halloween time

"I can't believe you talked me into this." Noah said as I styled his hair.

"Hush. You love me." I said, focusing intently on my work.

The pumpkin patch down the road was hosting their annual costume patch fest. Every year, they have people come down in their halloween costumes and walk around the pumpkin patch, along with the corn maze and hay ride. They have a petting zoo, hot chocolate, and the night ends with a costume contest.

I was currently spraying Noah's hair silver to top off our costumes as Danny Phantom and Sam, and as much as he's been complaining I know he's loving it. I perfectly spiked his short locs and sprayed them with the hair paint along with hairspray to ensure they stayed in place as long as we need them to. His hand kept sliding around to my ass, to which I kept smacking away so I didn't mess his hair up. After the tenth smack he decided to just pout and let me do whatever I needed to do.

"Ok!" I said, clapping and hopping off the counter I was sitting on so that I could properly reach his head. "My work here is done."

He looked at himself in the mirror and his mouth turned down with a head nod, signaling he did in fact enjoy this more than he admitted to.

"Not bad." He said, turning his head side to side.

"Good, let's get going. I don't want to miss the petting zoo." I said, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind me.

He followed my steps down the stairs and I grabbed my necessities before we headed out the door and to his car. It was a short drive to the pumpkin patch, and before I knew it I was petting a miniature cow in complete heaven. Noah laughed as he snapped pictures of me in my own little world, perfectly content if I was to stay with that cow all night.

He decided it was a beautiful idea to go into the corn maze and leave me alone, though. I spent the better part of 10 minutes trying to find him, giggling as I yelled "DANNY!" instead of Noah just to make his little game more fun. By the time I found him, he was a pile of laughter and my teeth were chattering as it got colder with the sun going down.

Costume is real cute, but not suitable for the cold.

We got hot chocolate before making our way around the pumpkin patch to figure out what pumpkins we would carve later. Noah decided on one that's incredibly too big but insisted it was perfect, and I decided on the actual perfect size for carving. He kept wrapping his arms around me and giving me kisses to try and warm me up as my body shook against him. Anytime he hugs me, it's like a warm blanket wrapping around me that provides me with instant comfort.

We made our way back to our house and I quickly started making some coffee to warm up while Noah cleaned the pumpkins off and set up our carving area outside. We made sure to take plenty of pictures before I decided to throw on one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. His hoodies always hang almost to my knees, making me look like a toddler but I will never stop stealing them.

Noah already decided on trying to carve an Attack On Titan pumpkin, which I have no clue how he plans on doing, and I was carving the cheshire cat. I sat between his legs as we carved them. I insisted that it was going to make him carving his impossible, but he proved me wrong with his slenderman arms. At some point, he gave up on his idea and just started freestyling a design. I finished mine and held it up, showing off my masterpiece but was met with silence.

I furrowed my brows and turned to look at him before I burst into laughter, instantly pulling my phone out to take a picture of him.

"What? You don't like it?" He questioned.

This man had just carved an entire open space of his pumpkin along with a hole in the bottom and had it on his head. The space framed his face so that all you could see was the center of his face, nothing else.

Laughter shook my body as I looked at him. He finally burst into his own laughter as the pumpkin slid down, effectively covering his eyes so he could no longer see. I pulled the pumpkin up on his head so I could see his eyes again, shaking my head at him.

"You're such a doof." I said through my laughter.

He grinned at me, smile sending butterflies into the pit of my stomach. "You love this doof."

I shook my head and leaned in kiss him, laughing against his lips.

"Forever and always."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian one shot #bad omens

[oddballwriter]

Last Warning

Summary: Steven wasn't usually a brat when it came to sex. But sometimes he really acted like one. So sometimes you need to put him back in his place. 

Warnings: Sub!Steven with Dom!Reader. Brat taming and brat behavior. Implied pegging (via strap-on) at the end, the reader's gender is never actually said and there is no mention of their pronouns either so you can apply whatever gender you want or as you identify as. Oral and deep throating (reader receiving). Hair pulling. Manhandling. Steven lowkey being slutted out. This is Steven-centric but the rest of the system gets mentioned and the reader and all three are already in a relationship.

Author’s Snip: I was going to write a whole smut that involved pegging but I lost my momentum and could find it. this fic has been sitting in my head and drafts for a while too and I thought it was so great even without the full idea, so I'm posting it now. The end might be a bit wonky so forgive me for that. Listen I worked hard on this lol. I still put my guy pussy in this and I'll be damned if I don't write it.

Note: I didn't fully proof read this. I just kind of brushed through it once so please do your best to ignore any typos or weird grammar.

If I find underage blogs interacting if this blog then I will not hesitate to instantly block with no buts. I do check. So this is your one and ONLY warning

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request!

"What's taking so long?" Steven complained from the bed, almost completely naked say for his pair of briefs that you told him to keep on. He propped himself on his elbows and looked towards the bed post where you stood.

"I'm fixing the strap." you answer chuckling at his impatience. "Why'd you even take it apart in the first place?" Steven asked, still having the same dissatisfied tone. "I wanted to clean the dildo, sweetheart. You can't be mad at me for practicing good sex toy hygiene." you answer again with a slightly more stern tone, "Just be a good boy for me and wait." you promise.

You already knew that the boys had different things that they were into after a while of being together. As it turns out, Steven, although he did enjoy being submissive and doing whatever you wanted, can be quite the brat, if he's antsy enough. Which he was right now. He had made it not so subtle that he wanted you to fuck him, and you were perfectly fine with giving it to him. But you found it a bit funny that he was acting like he was the one in charge with his little complaints. Usually you were able to talk in a stern tone to up him back in his place.

Usually.

"Well it seems like with how long this is taking, I'll have to be railed up again once you're done fixing it all back in place." Steven grumbled under his breath.

Oh?

So he does want to actually play that game now, does he?

"Steven," you say looking directly at him and creating an even sterner voice, "This is your last warning. If you keep being a brat then you're going to get treated like one." you threaten.

Steven heeds the warning and lays back down completely again as he waits. You could still sense that he wanted his desire to be satisfied now but didn't do anything other than wait for you to give it to him since your dynamic was that he needed to ask and have you satisfy him rather than doing it himself or take whatever you gave him to do such. You were glad that Steven wasn't willing to be a big enough brat to start touching himself without asking.

"There!" you announce, finally having gotten the whole strap on fixed on properly. You were about to give Steven exactly what he wanted until you heard him mumble "About time.", most likely talking to himself and only meaning for it to be heard by himself, but you still managed to hear it. You said it was his last warning.

Steven seemed to notice that you heard him and his face immediately became flushed. "I didn't mean it, love. I swear. I'll behave now." he stammered out as you made your way to where he was on the bed. He tried to scoot away from the edge of the bed where you stood yourself, but you manage to catch his ankle and pull him back towards you.

"Off the bed and on your knees." is all you said to him as you brought him to the edge of the bed with you, "I'll remind you exactly why I clean the parts of my straps." you say as you guide Steven into the position you ordered. Steven lets you manhandle him but continues to talk, "No, please. I wasn't that bad that I have to you use my saliva as lub-" Steven begs. "You'll get your lube." you tell him.

"I just want to put that pretty little mouth to better use since all you want to do with it is give me attitude like you weren't begging me to fuck you ten minutes ago." you explain before firmly grabbing his jaw, putting enough pressure on a specific spot to have you be able to manipulate it's movements, "Now open up." you demand as you guide his face towards your groan by pushing the back of his head. Steven does as he's told and timidly opens his mouth and darting out his tongue like he usually does when you have him give oral to your strap.

Steven wraps his lips around the tip of the dildo with the occasional licks. He gives you little glances up, clearly giving you puppy eyes. But it's not working on you tonight. "Quit being shy with it. We both know you can do better than that. I said use your mouth." you instruct as you push his head closer to you, making more of the dildo attached to the strap go farther into Steven's mouth. Steven lets out a whine before, again, doing as told.

You might not be able to actually feel the sensation of Steven, or any of other boys's mouth, around the dildo but you did get something out of watching them doing it. Like the attempt to do it right and keep a pace, or handle the pace you were making them go at via you grabbing their hair and making them move. Steven was cute, in a way. Sure, making him blow your strap would lead to him making that sort of nasty gawking sound and have drool run down his face and maybe drip. But he made these whining noises that just did something to you on top of the fact that he'd keep his hands both to himself, and off himself, and put them on his lap instead.

After a while of letting Steven go at it you push him away saying "Alright, that's enough.". Upon Steven and the dildo separating, a string of drool sticks to the edge of it and Steven's lips which curl into a little smile as he looks back up at you.

You know he thinks that the punishment and lesson learning is over, which really is a poor sense of judgment since he should also know better on that and that it's usually not that easy. So you decide to be a bit evil by not saying anything other than a simple "get on the bed for me." and nothing else.

Steven gets back on his spot laid out on your shared bed, on his back. But you quickly flip him over onto his stomach and grab a handful of his curly hair to make him lean backwards, keeping him from putting anything other than his hands and knees on the bed.

Steven lets out another whiny moan trying to voice his displeasure without getting himself into more trouble with you. "None of that." you say in a stern voice again but this time with a smile on your face. "I told you you were going to be treated like a brat. You thought that I was just going to give you what you originally wanted after just making you use your mouth?" you ask. You shake your head, "No. You're not getting the pillow prince treatment. If you had just behaved then you would have but not anymore." you scold as you let go of his hair to pull off down his briefs. You move away for a bit with a bottle of lube, "You're lucky I'm giving you this." you say as you come back. "If it were Jake then the spit is all you would be getting." you claim as you lather the dildo part of the strap-on. "But I guess you were good enough taking a strap down your throat. So be thankful for that." you say as you draw near to let the fun really begin.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight smut #moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant smut #sub!steven grant #dom!reader #implied pegging

[ericsprincess]

yours for the taking PART 2

nc-17, smut, boyfriend!Sangyeon, body worship, pegging, anal fingering, lingerie (on Sangyeon), thigh riding

~~~

part 1 here

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A/N: You know who is this for ;)

~~~

“Are you done? Can I go look?” you’re pretty much vibrating with excitement. You’re sitting on the bed, swinging your feet, all giddy. 

“I- I’m not sure? I can’t tell if it’s all in the correct places. there are too many…straps…” 

“If it’s wrong, I’ll fix it for you, just come out already,” you whine. You’re a bit tipsy from the champagne you had this evening and it makes you a bit more annoying than usual. But you can’t help it - today is your birthday and you already celebrated it with your coworkers at work, friends after work, and now, with all your friends on the way home, leftover pizza and cake in the fridge and your living room already cleaned up, it’s time for the main event. A little private celebration with your boyfriend, something you’ve been looking for the whole day. Especially since he promised to give you something particular as a gift. 

“Okay, but I swear I look stupid,” Sangyeon’s grumbly voice sounds back from the bathroom. 

“Let me be the judge of that,” you reply and crane your neck to see better. Sangyeon finally steps out from the bathroom, doing his best to not look totally awkward, but you don’t even care. 

He’s wearing a nice black set of lingerie made from a somewhat sheer lace, with straps and little bows, selected and ordered by you, specifically for your birthday. The top is a soft bralette, perfect around his muscular pecs, making them look almost like tits, the sheer material showing his nipples, and the bottom is a nice pair of panties with brazilian cut (“So that I can see your ass better!”). The panties are clearly working overtime to contain his cock and balls, and you can see both peek from the sides, where the fabric is just not enough to cover them. Sangyeon seems to be particularly awkward about that, because he keeps trying to pull the panties to cover him properly, to no avail. The straps are located in all the strategic places, cutting softly into his flesh, and it makes you want to snap them so badly, making Sangyeon flinch a little from the unexpected pain. 

“Baby, you look really good, trust me,” you’re almost drooling, and you beckon him to come closer. He visibly forces himself to relax a bit, obviously trying to shake off the awkwardness, telling himself it’s only the two of you and not a big deal. He slowly approaches the bed where you’re sitting, almost towering over you. You slowly look up, drinking up the sight of his body, and try to not visibly drool over his muscular legs, chiseled abs, wide shoulders, but especially your most favorite part of your boyfriend - his beautiful full chest. 

You run your hands over his thighs and ass, squeezing in appreciation. His body is hard from muscle and yet soft and warm, thanks to him not being too lean. You brush your hands over his abs, up to his pecs and grab one, squeezing and rubbing it as if it was an actual breast, feeling his nipple harden. So good. You pinch it a little over the bralette, and smirk at your boyfriend who is still trying to suppress any reaction he deems as embarrassing. You can’t have that, and the only thing that deters you from just going to town and torturing his tits until he squeals and whines, are the plans you already made for this evening. 

Speaking of. 

You move your hands down his back until you reach the hem of his panties. He needs to step a bit closer, and his cock is right in front of your face now, and you can see him being already hard, already leaking. You resist nuzzling your face into it and getting a deep breath of his scent, as you know this could very well end up with you wanting to suck him off, but today is not for that. 

Sneaking your hand into his panties, you’re not wasting time and slip your finger right between his butcheeks and- Oh. He’s already slick and wet. You try to push in and your two fingers enter him without any resistance. Sangyeon gasps, with closed eyes and grabs your shoulder.

“You already prepared, baby?” you look up. His face is red and he looks like he would like to avoid your eyes but he doesn’t. “There was no need to, I would have done it for you..” you smile, pushing your fingers further inside. Sangyeon whimpers, losing his composure a bit already.

“Yeah..I mean, it’s a gift for you. You shouldn’t have to work for it.” He speaks so quietly he’s almost whispering. 

“That’s so nice of you,” you lean forward to kiss along his abs, while slowly moving your fingers in and out of him. “Not only do I get your hole as a birthday gift, but you just serve it to me on a golden platter. Couldn’t even ask for more,” you laugh quietly, knowing very well you could have asked for more - and he would give it to you anyways.

You pull your fingers out of him. “Get on the bed, on your back,” you command and Sangyeon nods. He climbs onto the bed as you stand up from it, removing your clothes. He lies down and even though you’re turned away from him, you can feel his eyes on you. You take off all your clothes, wincing as you’re peeling your wet panties off you, throwing them somewhere in the general direction of the laundry basket. Leaning over, you open the drawer of your night stand. 

“Close your eyes, Sangyeon,” you say, and he obeys. 

“It’s okay, I can see you put it on, I will not get second thoughts by seeing it,” he snorts, but keeps his eyes closed. 

“It’s not that,” you fumble with the straps. “I just want you to feel it first.”

You finally manage to buckle yourself into the harness and you reach into the drawer again for a lube. The tube clicks when you open it and rubbing it over the strapped on dildo makes a squelchy sound - Sangyeon can’t see it, but he can definitely hear, and his breath is getting quicker. His cock is now straining in the panties, leaking precum through them. 

You get on the bed and Sangyeon instinctively spreads his legs to make room for you. You take a second to admire his beautiful muscular body and pull his legs further apart and up, to take a look at his cock and balls under the tiny panties. You contemplate whether to just pull them down slightly to get the access to his hole or if it would be better to take them off completely and you decide to get rid of them - it will be nice to see his cock flop around as you thrust into him. 

You bring the strap close to his hole and gently rub over it with the tip, just to get him used to it, so that he’s not surprised. His eyes are still closed and he’s grasping the bedsheets in anticipation.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you say quietly, pushing in. Sangyeons eyes flutter open and he just gasps, as you slowly push the dildo inside of him. 

“Good?” you check and he nods. He prepared thoroughly, as you felt a few minutes ago. He’s blushing and starting to sweat and it’s adorable, so you lean forward, propping yourself on your hands on each side of him and kiss him. “Can I move?” you whisper and he replies with moving his pelvis a bit to thrust against you. 

You start fucking him, first slowly, so that his hole gets used to the surely unnatural feeling, but when you can see Sangyeon is not in any discomfort anymore, you pick up the pace. 

You lean back from him to see better - his face is red and his eyes are closed and he’s gasping and whining in low voice, trying to not make much sound, even though he knows he can and that you like it - he’s still embarrased about it, about being fucked by his girlfriend, about liking it. 

His cock is almost fully hard and leaking and it’s indeed flopping around with the rhythm of your thrusts. You have half a mind to grab it and jerk him off, but you really don’t want him to finish too soon, before you enjoy him to the fullest. 

And the best part - his glorious tits, bouncing contained in the bralette. You could drool just from the sight. You take one hand off his thigh and grope his tit while fucking him and you really wish you were a bit taller so you could reach forwards and suck on it while you’re fucking him. 

But there is no need - he’s losing his mind anyways, he’s touching and grabbing you wherever he can to get you closer to him, deeper in him. 

But you don’t want him to come like that. 

“On all fours baby,” you order, and that wakes him up from his pleasure, disoriented at the first second. But he gets it right then and scrambles up to get up and turn, giving you barely any time to pull out. 

The sight in front of you - a muscular, tanned man in front of you, presenting you his fucked out hole, that’s all just for you and because of you - it almost makes you want to change plans, get rid of the strap and get yourself to come with rubbing your clit as you finger and stretch his hole further. But you’re not the one to ditch a carefully prepared plan so you prevail. 

You push the dildo back to him, listening to his moans, and after a few perfunctory thrusts you thrust as deep as you can into him, and just grind your hips, pressing onto his prostate the whole time, without any mercy, no moment where you would ease up on him. 

Sangyeon whines, almost sobs with pleasure, but you won’t make it easy on him. You lean forwards, your front to his back and without stopping your movement you grope his tits from behind with your both hands. He’s breathing so heavily and despite the pleasure, he still needs to keep himself up, now with the added weight of you. His arms are shaking, and he’s close to his limits. 

“Y/N, please…” he finally finds his words and you pinch his nipple in reply. 

“What do you want?” you ask, enjoying the contrast of his broken voice and yours almost unaffected one. You’re dying for some stimulation, but since you’re not really getting any, at least not in places that matter, you’re only slightly out of breath. And the deprivation is also making you meaner than usual. 

“Make me come, please…please I can’t take it anymore,” he begs, all shame and embarrassment thrown to the wind.

“Should I?” you ask deviously and grab his cock, squeezing it hard. 

“Yes, please, I beg you, please I need to come,” his hands give up and he plants himself into the pillow, moaning sounds muffled. 

“Okay baby,” you laugh. You’re a benevolent girlfriend anyways. “Cum for me,” you say while taking a proper hold of his cock, jerking him off quickly, but not forgetting to keep abusing his prostate, so that he doesn’t know whether to fuck forwards or backwards, and so he cums. Almost endless spurts of cum, landing on your bedsheets, while Sangyeon can’t catch a breath from all the sobbing and moaning. 

You gently slow down, both your hand and hips, taking time so he can calm down from his orgasm. You pull out of him and he just slumps half dead on the bed. 

He looks five seconds from either passing out of falling asleep, but you won’t give him a break. Not yet, not when you haven’t come yet - it’s your birthday still. 

“Turn on your back.”

Sangyeon obeys, even though it looks like it’s taking all of his remaining strength to do so. 

The sight is stunning. He’s all sweaty, with red splotches, blushing cheeks and even some tear stains on his face. You can’t wait anymore. 

“Can I ride your thigh?” you ask, but you’re already unclipping the harness and climbing on his leg, before he even hums his agreement with a lazy satisfied smile.

You’re so wet it’s actually dripping from you and you don’t waste a second. You rub your pussy on his thigh hard, riding it fast and quick to get yourself to come quickly, gasping from pleasure while Sangyeon runs his warm palms over your hips and ass. 

But you need just one more thing, for the evening to be perfect. 

You lean forward, pull on his bralette so one of his tits pops out and you lick it before sucking on it, groping the other one. 

Sangyeon gasps and squirms under you, no doubt the feeling being overstimulating for him now, but you ignore that and suck on his tit, biting the nipple, enjoying his hands grabbing you harder and harder, the more you torture his chest. 

“He’s so nice,” you think. “I could do anything and he would let me,” and with this thought you’re finally coming, letting his nipple go, riding your orgasm out while he helps you move. 

Collapsing on his body, you’re completely out of breath and as sweaty as Sangyeon.

“I think I’m dead.” you groan.

“YOU think you’re dead?” he asks disbelievingly. 

“Yeah..fucking is too exhaustive, I’m glad it’s your job,” you mumble into his chest. Actually. “Well, maybe except birthdays, then I can take over,” you smirk and look up to wink at him.

Sangyeon rolls his eyes. 

“Geez. I am really curious what gift you will demand next year,” he sighs contentedly. 

“Don’t worry baby,” you snort. “I have a list.”

#sangyeon smut #lee sangyeon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #ficscafe #sangyeon fic #lee sangyeon fic #sangyeon #lee sangyeon #kpop smut #kpop fic #sangyeon imagines #lee sangyeon imagines #sangyeon x reader #lee sangyeon x reader #sangyeon scenarios #lee sangyeon scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz #tbz

[livielizardcos]

taking some time today to discuss xiao! specifically the upgrades i made to him for metrocon 2023. i did so much experimenting with new techniques and materials, so i wanted to share that here to document, and maybe inspire some of my fellow artists/cosplayers!

i don’t think i could ever properly explain how happy i was after remaking xiao’s shirt. the previous version (which was purchased) fit really poorly, and the fabric was not great. it constantly pulled out from the waist of the pants and it practically blocked any airflow. the solution was simple: remake it from a bodysuit. that way the shirt not only stayed in place but also already gave me a much better form-fitting base to start out with. the mesh panel in the back was the part i worried about the most but ended up being the part i’m happiest with! i used power mesh that i hand dyed to be close to my skin tone (though the color isn’t very clear due to my binder’s color).

the swirling pattern on the bodysuit is a metallic white fabric paint. i made a digital drawing of the pattern on procreate, then printed it onto freezer paper. after cutting it out with an exacto knife, you can actually iron freezer paper onto fabric (shiny side facing the fabric) and it creates a nearly seamless stencil for fabric paint! i see myself using this technique a lot in the future, it’s literally perfect!!

the black leather piece at the neck and shoulders was my biggest obstacle. not only have i never worked with leather, but it is also a non-stretch material i’d be attaching to the collar/neck portion that very much needed to be able to stretch to be pulled on. thankfully the design worked out that i could have 2 closure points, one on the back of the neck and one at the front of the neck. the entire piece is hemmed by folding over and gluing the raw edge to the inside, then i glued hem tape over those raw edges to cover them and make them softer on the skin (the entire leather piece is unlined, due to its complex shape). all the visible edges of the leather were satin stitched to give them a clean, crisp edge. the gold appliqués on the front and back are 2mm eva foam covered in a gold stretch fabric, then glued onto the bodysuit with e6000!

the two white pieces that frame the mesh panel on the back gave me more difficulty than i expected. their shape is a bit deceiving, and needing them to lie flat on my back without sacrificing the stretch of the main garment meant i couldn’t just top stitch them onto the back. and while i’m not super happy with how they ended up aligning (where they meet at the top is much further down than i was aiming for), i still think it came out really nice!

and that’s the finished top!

here’s a front and back of the finished top! the sleeve is held up with clear bra straps that hook onto the inside of the shirt at the shoulder. all in all, i absolutely love how this newer shirt came out.

besides the shirt/bodysuit, the boots also got an upgrade! i snagged some boots on sale on amazon for $20, which was an insane steal! this style is very universal for so many costumes, and it also helps that the boots are comfortable and flat too! all of the accessories on the boots are affixed temporarily or from the inside (velcro, snaps, and elastic) so that the integrity of the outer boot remains untouched and i can reuse them for several costumes and even everyday wear. i also replaced the gold piece around the neck that holds the “scarf.” just like the pieces on the shirt, it is 2mm foam covered in gold fabric. this not only helps the gold elements feel more cohesive but also lies a lot more comfortably on my neck!

#cosplay #cosplayer #tutorial #sewing #sewist #cosplay breakdown #cosplay tutorial #genshin impact xiao #xiao genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin impact #genshin impact cosplay #genshin impact xiao cosplay #genshin xiao cosplay #xiao cosplay #genshin cosplay #cosplay wip #metrocon #metrocon 2023 #xiao #adeptus xiao

[orithyia-eriphyle]

Drive

Chapter 3: Taste Previous Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5k

Stray Kids x Fem!Reader (Street Racing AU)

Synopsis: Turns out befriending the barista, Jisung, was a good idea. Although Minho’s Saturday plans with you are slightly soured when you run into someone unexpected.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of gang-related activities, tattooed and pierced Chan.

Not edited

***

You hummed quietly to yourself as you waited for Jisung to finish his shift, looking out the window as people and cars passed by. You eventually got bored just staring and resorted to scrolling mindlessly on Instagram. You stumbled across an ad for a local tattoo shop, and your curiosity is now piqued. You clicked on their page and looked through some of their work, admiring their style. 

You had multiple tattoos already and plan on getting more once you moved to Seoul and now could be the perfect time after winning the race last night, your wallet feeling a little thicker. 

*** 

“Okay, I’m done!” Jisung’s voice called out from behind you. You turned your head to see him no longer in his apron and making his way toward you. You smiled and kicked the chair out that was across from you so he could take a seat. 

“You seem pretty happy for someone who just had to clean up a bunch of spilled coffee beans.” You remarked idly, smiling at the man lazily.

Jisung returned your smile, “The thought of being with a pretty woman kept me motivated.” He said smugly, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. You laughed at him, already finding him to be enjoyable company. 

Jisung decided that it was time to get to know you properly, beginning with simple questions, “How long have you been living in Seoul?” He said, staring at you intently.

“This is only my third day here. I moved from Busan.” You said, taking a bite of your cake pop.

“Why’d you move? Busan is pretty nice.” He questioned once again.

“I guess for job opportunities.”

“You guess? I feel like that’s something you should know.”

You laughed, “It’s not a legal job, Jisungie.” You said, cocking a brow at him, watching as his eyebrows shot up. 

“You're not like dealing drugs, right?’ He said, his cheeks puffing out. You smiled coyly and nudged his foot under the table in a playful manner. 

“Do I look like a drug dealer?” You said in a tone of fake offense, holding a hand to your heart.

Jisung waved his hands in front of him in a form of surrender. “No, of course not! But would a good drug dealer want to look like they deal drugs, you know?” Jisung said, waving his hands as he spoke, “That’s how you get caught, and I don’t think you look like a drug dealer who would get caught.”

You looked at the man across from you incredulously, “That was a lot more detail than I was expecting, and yet I’m still confused.” 

“Doesn’t matter, you’re hot either way,” Jisung said and then continued switching subjects like whiplash. “What is the actual illegal activity you get up to?” He questioned, placing his crossed arms on the table and leaning on them.

You leaned closer to him, your faces only a few inches away, and pressed your index finger to your lips in a ‘shushing’ manner with a small smile. “I do street racing and I think you do too, sweet cheeks.” You spoke in a hushed manner, taking note of the slight shock on Jisung’s face.

“How’d you figure that out?” Was his response, his face showing clear confusion.

“I’ve become good friends with Lee Minho, whom I assume you know.” You said, raising your brow in question but both of you knew it was a statement, “He and I had a friendly competition last night, which I won by the way, and ended the night with some drinks and loose lips.” You continued, finishing off your snack. “It’s weird that I keep running into people who know each other in a city as big as Seoul.” You finished, not talking to anyone in particular with your ending statement. 

Jisung stared at you with an unreadable expression before replying, “I haven’t met a lot of people who can beat Minho Hyung.” He paused before continuing, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs. “But you also don’t seem like a regular opponent, pretty.” He finished with a small smile gracing his features. 

You returned his smile, “You could say that.”

***

You slouched on your couch after returning home from the cafe with Jisung. You enjoyed spending time with him, finding his goofy personality very attractive and naturally appealing. He didn’t seem fake like a lot of people seemed to be these days.

After getting a glass of water, you opened Instagram to see that you were still on the tattoo studio’s page from earlier. You recalled your inclination to get another tattoo and clicked on the link in their bio which led to their website. You scrolled through and found their contact information, which led to an impromptu call that may or may not have led to an impulsive decision.

“This is Red Lights Tattoo and Piercing Studio, how may I help you?”

***

Later that night you were hanging out with Minho once again, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately. You were both playing UNO which was starting to get a little heated. You had already been accused of cheating once.

“You know how you were going to show me around this weekend?” You questioned suddenly, resulting in Minho looking up from the cards in his hands. “Yeah. Did you change your mind or something?” He questioned, his lips tugging down at the corners. 

You shook your head, “No, but I called a local tattoo studio and they could only book me for Saturday so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and you could show me around after.” You stated, watching as Minho’s eyebrows went up in realization.

“I don’t mind coming with you.” He said, placing down a skip, which you rolled your eyes at. “Do you have any other tattoos?” He questioned, placing down his next card.

You nodded and smiled, “Want to see?” You said with a wiggle of your brows.

Minho raised a brow and puffed out a chuckle, “I don’t know, with the way you asked it makes me think it’s on your ass or something.” He said and then frowned as you shouted ‘UNO!’ Your conversation had completely distracted him. 

You smirked at him, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t love to look at my ass.” You said cheekily, placing your last card down and cheering. 

Minho sighed dramatically, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head down to look at you across from him, “You said it, not me.” You snorted and covered your mouth in mild embarrassment while Minho smiled at you fondly. Minho spoke again, “But yes, I want to see your tattoo.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up on your knees, gripping the end of your shirt and pulling it up. You stopped when only the underside of your bra was showing, looking up at Minho as he stared at your sternum. “I’d take my bra off to show you the whole thing but you’re not that lucky.”

Minho ignored you, continuing to stare at the black ink that started between your cleavage and branched out under your breasts. It was spiked and reminded him of an old and dead tree. 

Minho released a breath before speaking, “I was honestly expecting something stupid but that’s pretty sick.” He said airily, finally looking back up at your eyes as you dropped your shirt. 

You replied with a scoff, “Do I seem like the type of person to get something stupid permanently tattooed on my body?” You questioned, rolling your eyes when the man only stared at you with a deadpan expression. You could never win with him. 

“Where are you getting the new tattoo?” He questioned, beginning to help you pick up your cards and empty wine glasses. 

“I was thinking about my hand. I like where the other is but I want one that’s more visible.” You said, walking to your kitchen to put the dirty glasses in the sink. Minho joined you in the kitchen shortly after putting the cards away. 

“You know, you could always just walk around topless.” He suggested cheekily, leaning against the counter next to you with his arms crossed over his chest. You stared at him from the corner of your eye with a bored expression.

“You’re awfully flirty with me considering we’ve only known each other three days.” You stated, drying your hands off the kitchen towel. Minho shrugged and stared at the wall across from him.

“You just really bring it out in me, doll.” He replied, walking behind you and placing a hand on the small of your back as he put the now-dried glasses back in the cabinet for you. 

“You’re an odd man, Lee Minho.” You said and stared at his very sharp jaw.

“I try my best, doll.”

***

The bell above the tattoo studio door rang out in the small shop once you and Minho stepped inside, making a beeline to the front desk to check in with the receptionist. 

“Hello! Do you have an appointment with us today?” The woman spoke happily with a smile, which you returned. 

“Yes, I have a tattoo appointment  for 9:00 with somebody named Bang Chan?” You said, the statement sounding more like a question, unsure if you got the man’s name right.

The receptionist perked up and looked at her computer, “Oh! You must be (Y/n)! Have a seat here in the waiting area and fill out these papers for me, please. Chan will be out to get you momentarily.”

You took the papers from her and looked at Minho, silently urging him to pick a seat. He looked back at you and gently placed a hand on your back to guide you towards two seats in front of the window. 

You sat down and began filling out the forms when Minho spoke. “You didn’t tell me you booked an appointment with Chan.” He said, watching you as your neat handwriting graced the pages in front of you.

You glanced at him but continued writing, “I didn’t know I was supposed to.” You said, a little confused. 

Minho sighed, “I know Chan.” He said, almost defeatedly, which was somewhat unusual for him. 

“Do you guys have bad blood or something?” You questioned with furrowed brows, putting a temporary pause on your writing. 

“He races too. We met in a race a few years back and have had this kind of unspoken rivalry since.” He paused before continuing, “I don’t hate him or anything, I just find him highly irritating.” He finished, looking down at you. 

“Do you want to go get something to eat while I get worked on? I don’t want to force you into an uncomfortable situation.” You suggested, not liking the idea of Minho being miserable the entire time he was with you. 

Minho smirked at you, “I’m a big boy, (Y/n), I can handle a few hours with the guy.” He said sarcastically. 

You didn’t have the chance to respond as an incredibly attractive man walked into the lobby. His right arm was covered in multiple tattoos, making it a sleeve. His hair was dark brown and slicked up out of his face. You took note of the black studs on his bottom lip, snake bites, and the slit shaved into one of his eyebrows. 

Whatever all-powerful being may be up there was smiling down on you this week.

“I assume you’re (Y/n)?” The man asked, his slitted eyebrow quirked in question.

You nodded and stood, Minho following after you, “That’s me. I assume you’re Chan?” You responded, handing the paperwork to the receptionist and bowing in thanks.

“That’s right. Follow me, please.” He said, going to turn before pausing and looking back, “You coming too, Minho?” He haughtily questioned Minho. Said man rolled his eyes before moving to follow the two of you towards the back of the tattoo parlor. 

Chan sat you down on the chair in the middle of the room, Minho sitting in the chair in the corner meant for guests. 

After Chan got comfortable in his seat he looked at you, “Firstly, I need to know if this is your first tattoo. I want to make this experience as comfortable as possible for you.” He said, waving his hands as he spoke.

You gave him a small shake of your head, “I have one other tattoo that I got done a few months ago.” Chan nodded.

“Where did you get the tattoo? I want to be sure because the pain varies depending on where you are getting tattooed. If I know where your previous one is I can give you something to compare it to.” He said, being very thorough.

“My tattoo is on my sternum.” Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at your reply.

“Wow. That’s a pretty painful area to get done for your first tattoo.” He said as he moved around the room to set everything up. 

“I want more body art but I want the main focus to be my sternum tattoo. Kind of like a centerpiece. It was easier to get it done first so I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally overshadowing it with something else.” You explained, watching him as he worked diligently.

Chan smiled at you, “I like your thought process there.” He complimented before continuing, “I already have the stencil done and I know you wanted it on your hand so let’s get the placement down real quick.” He spoke, grabbing the stencil in his right hand and your hand in his left one.

You began to speak, “I wanted it on the side of my hand, kind of under my thumb.” You explained, dragging the index finger of your free hand down your skin to point out the area. Chan nodded along, placing the stencil on your hand and adjusting it at your instruction. 

After confirming the placement, the blue ink of the stencil was stamped onto your skin. Chan peeled the paper back, and you lifted your hand to get a proper look at it. You broke out into a grin, the familiar feeling of excitement shooting up your spine.

“Minnie, come look at it.” You said excitedly, pointing to the stencil. 

Minho and Chan stared at one another as the younger man approached your figure, the tension between the two going completely unnoticed by you as you were still distracted by the stencil on your hand. 

Minho was the first to break away from staring, looking down at your hand, and smiling. He gently lifted your hand as he examined it, “It looks good, sweetheart. I bet it’ll look even cooler once it’s done though.” He spoke, placing your hand back in your lap. 

Minho turned to go back to his seat but you grabbing his wrist stopped his movements, “Can you drag your chair over here? I might need to hold your hand.” You said, trying your best to cover up the fact that you were a little flustered. 

Minho smiled and grabbed his chair, “‘Course, doll.”

“You ready?” Chan asked, the black ink laid out and ready, his gloves on and the gun in his hand. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile, the man returning it. “Good, let me know if you need a break.” He said, turning the gun on and dipping it into the ink before pressing the needle into your skin. 

The three of you were silent as Chan worked, but he didn’t seem to like that, opting to break the silence. “Are you two together?” His sudden question surprised you and Minho.

Minho’s eyes widened comically as you broke out into nervous laughter, “No, we only met a week ago.” You clarified. Chan’s brows shoot up in surprise along with a glance to your face.

“That’s shocking. Minho doesn’t usually warm up to people that fast.” Chan said, focusing back on the tattoo.

You hummed and looked at the aforementioned man next to you, “I guess I’m just special then.” You said cheekily, gripping Minho’s hand and squeezing it. The man squeezed back and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, doll.”

You chuckled and turned your gaze back to Chan, “I heard you like to race.” You said flatly, shocking the artist who looked up at you in mild shock before turning his glare to the man on your right.

“Why did you tell her?” He said in an accusatory manner.

Minho smiled cheekily, “She likes to speed herself, Chris.” He said, practically boasting. “She beat me in a race a few days ago.”

Chan looked down at you, “That’s quite a feat. Minho is one of the best racers out here.” Chan stated, “What do you drive?” He questioned, his focus still on your tattoo.

“A Subaru BRZ. What about you, handsome?” You said, ignoring the way Minho’s hand tightened around yours.

Chan smiled before replying, “A Camaro. Black.” His reply was short and simple, wanting to move the attention back to you he asked another question, “You new to Seoul?”

“I moved here a few days ago and met Minho the same day. I assume you know Jeongin since everyone I’ve met seems to know him.”

“Yang Jeongin?” He questioned.

“Yeah, him. We were friends back in Busan. I was the one that got him into racing, unintentionally.” You said, mumbling the last half of your statement.

“So you’re the girl from Busan he’s always gushing about.” Chan said, “The kid doesn’t stop talking about you.”

You hummed at the new information, “Yeah well the little shit ghosted me after moving so I don’t quite understand why he’s telling all his friends about me.” You said sourly. Jeongin had yet to give you a proper explanation as to why he left you in Busan and then acted like you didn’t even exist afterward. Until he does give you a proper explanation, you are going to remain salty about it.

Chan paused his work and glanced at the man beside you, biting his lip in thought before speaking hesitantly. “Innie got into some… trouble after moving up here.” He said calmly, going back to tattooing you.

You tensed, “What kind of trouble? Something to do with racing?” You questioned.

Minho spoke up from beside you, “Something like that. He didn’t want you involved. He said you were too important to be dragged into his problems.” Minho said as he gazed at the needle of the tattoo gun pricking your skin. 

You scoffed in annoyance, “I’m a big girl who has dealt with her fair share of shitty situations.” You stated, pausing before questioning the men, “Who did he piss off?”

“How did you know he pissed someone off?” Chan questioned with a tiny smirk.

“Because pissing people off is one of his many talents, unfortunately.”

Minho eventually answered your question, “He pissed off a rival group that’s known for getting violent with their competition. Innie got too cocky and said some shit he shouldn’t have.” Minho paused, “He’s learned from his mistakes. What happened back then really shook him up.”

“Rival group? There were groups back in Busan, too. Are you guys all in a group together?” Your questions were never-ending. You wanted to know everything that happened to Jeongin between now and his leaving Busan. 

Minho smiled, “Yeah. Han, Jeongin, Chan, and I are the ones you have met. There are four others.” He said, locking his gaze with your own.

“I thought the two of you didn’t get along.” You said, having picked up on the tension between the two men.

“We don’t but we’re civil for the sake of the group. We tolerate each other out of mutual respect.” Chan said with a chuckle. 

You nodded your head in understanding, “Who have I not met?”

Chan chuckled, “At this rate, you’ll meet the rest of them by the end of next week. Be a little patient, pretty.” He said calmly.

***

It took around an hour and a half for the tattoo to be completed due to the tedious line work. You paid and left, but not before giving your number to Chan at the man’s polite request.

“You gotta start warning me before I meet your friends, Minnie.” You stated as Minho led you around the city.

“What do you mean?” He said, looking at you from his peripheral. 

You flung your arms in the air dramatically, “Your friends are all hot! I don’t want to run into one of them when I look bummy.” You complained to the man.

Minho rolled his eyes at your dramatics, “One, you run into them on your own, and two, I have never seen you look bummy.” He stated and threw you a small smile.

You huffed and crossed your arms, “That’s because I don’t let you see me look bummy.”

“Can we stop saying bummy?” Minho questioned with a lifted brow.

“I’ll stop saying it if you tell me your other friends' names. What if I know one of them?” You said matter of factly. 

“Not a chance, doll.”

***

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[goosewriting]

Mikey with blue prompt 1 and 32, trying to teach the reader how to make cookies but they're uh... Not. That good at it lmao. But they keep trying and it ends with them making a pretty good batch!

Vanilla extract (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

prompt 1: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.” prompt 32: “Do you take constructive criticism?” “Not without crying.”

summary: Mikey and reader bake cookies together, but reader is really bad at it. 

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: reader being a danger in the kitchen lmao 

word count: 1.2k

A/N: (this one can be read as both platonic or romantic!) as someone who really likes baking cookies, this hurt a little to write XD also enjoy the currently tumblr-relevant little joke höhö

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – – 

Mikey and you had decided to bake cookies, which you had never done before. You had actually never baked anything before, and you weren’t exactly an ace in the kitchen. So he was more than happy to teach you. He even had the recipe book open on the counter so you could check the instructions with him. After all, how hard could it be? 

“First things first” Mikey says, as you both finish tying your aprons. “We need to measure all the ingredients.”

And that’s when disaster already hit.

You had never really handled flour before, so you flipped the package over with a little too much force, causing a lot of flour to spill onto the counter instead of into the measuring cup. Mikey was quick to tell you it wasn’t a big deal, and wiped the surface with a damp cloth, instructing you to either go slower or use a big spoon to get the powder out bit by bit. 

After the dry ingredients were all measured and standing on the counter in their individual bowls, it was time to mix them up. You remembered Mikey mentioning that the dry and the wet ingredients had to be mixed separately first before combining them. So you grab the sugar and are about to pour it into the flour, when Mikey stops you.

“It’s actually better to mix up the sugar with the butter” he points out. “It makes the butter fluffier.”

Now you’re even more confused; how would that even work?

Following the turtle’s instructions, you first mashed up the butter with a fork, then put that and the sugar into the stand mixer. You turned on the machine, but the dials were opposite of how you thought, so you set it to the maximum speed. That not only almost broke the mixer, but it also sent the bowl and its contents flying. You sheepishly cleaned up the mess and measured out more sugar, while Mikey told you not to worry about it for the second time that day.

When the butter was all mixed with the sugar, it was time to add the eggs. You were about to reach out for one when Mikey stepped in and said he’d do it himself. Fidgeting with a spoon in your hands, you watched as he skillfully cracked them open, the yolk and whites falling into the bowl in an almost elegant way that you felt was intended to mock you. He didn’t get a single eggshell piece into the batter either. 

After mixing everything together (now that you knew how to properly operate the stand mixer), Mikey handed you a little bottle that read “vanilla extract”. You opened the bottle, giving it a sniff, and hummed in delight at how good that smelled.

“Hey, look at me” Mikey suddenly said in a serious tone, grabbing you by the shoulders. “One tablespoon, not more. You understand? Just a couple of drops is all it takes.”

You nodded and did as he said, adding only a small spoonful of the thick liquid to the batter. After closing the bottle, you looked at the spoon for probably a second too long, because Mikey snatched it from your hand.

“You don’t want to lick that, trust me” he said with a chuckle. “You’ll regret it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It smelled so wonderful! Of course you wanted to lick it. It surely tasted just as good right? 

But your plan couldn't come to fruition as Mikey was already starting the next step. He added some chocolate chips, mixed it a little more, then sifted the flour into the batter. He first folded it in with a wooden spatula, then with his hands. 

Taking out the dough, he skillfully kneaded it on the counter, and you wondered how many times he had done this before, he clearly knew what he was doing. With the rolling pin he flattened it all to a cookie-worthy thickness and stepped aside to make place for you.

“Would you do the honours?” he asked, handing you a container with several cookie cutters. 

You squealed in glee at all the cute designs, and chose one in the shape of a sea turtle. Surely this was the easiest, impossible-to-mess-up part, right?

Mikey first observed you with happiness, content that he could teach you something new. But with every passing second, his expression turned to horrified confusion. Somehow, and he still couldn’t understand how, every single piece of dough you had cut out, came out looking like anything other than a turtle. Even when you switched to the regular circular cookie cutter, the cookies you were scooping up from the counter looked like disfigured sad little blobs. Before he could stop himself, he mumbled under his breath.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. You gasped, giving him a hurt look, then looking back at your handiwork in front of you, and you pouted: he was absolutely right. 

“But hey, we came this far!” Mikey tried to comfort you. “They don’t have to look perfect, as long as they taste good; that just means they’re homemade! All that’s left is to bake them.” 

So you did, except that you forgot to set the timer for the cookies in the oven while you were cleaning up the kitchen. You both got distracted talking about a game, and as you were taking out your phone to show it to him, he sniffed the air.

“Say, how much longer on the timer?” Mikey asked and craned his neck over your shoulder to look at the oven in horror.

“Whoops” is all that you managed to answer, before you both rushed to save whatever you could of your precious baked goods. Mikey quickly slipped the oven mitts over his hands and opened the glass door, a concerning cloud of smoke erupting from behind it. Taking the baking tray and placing it on the stove, you both stood silently before it, staring at the practically carbonised little blobs on it. 

“Hey, it’s fine~” Mikey suddenly said, one arm over your shoulder while his other reached out to grab a cookie. You couldn’t stop him in time, as he had already popped one in his mouth. The crunching that came from his chewing mouth was as concerning as it was horrifying. You could only watch in shock as he actually gulped it down.

“Hmm” he sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. “Do you take constructive criticism?” 

“Not without crying” you answered, and your shoulders slumped. How could you mess this up so badly?

Mikey chuckled and pulled you in for a hug, giving your cheek a little peck, which made you feel a little better. He then suggested making a new batch, but this time he made sure to give you more detailed instructions and guide you through every step. That new batch actually turned out really well, and you enjoyed your well-deserved prize with some hot chocolate.

– – –

Bonus: 

You were sitting at the table with the rest of the turtles, all eating your cookies and complimenting you on how good they had turned out, when you remembered something. Excusing yourself for a second to go get more hot chocolate, you stepped back into the kitchen, and reached for the vanilla extract bottle. You gave it another whiff, enjoying the smell, and poured some drops onto a spoon. As soon as you put it in your mouth however, you immediately regretted it. Mikey was right: this tasted awful. Going “Ew! How?!” followed by coughing, you heard a laugh from the other room, and Mikey’s voice: “I told you so!”

~~~~~

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